Song of the Souls
by writerchic97
Summary: Tammy has always been able to see things no mortal should be able to, like ghosts and faeries and even Celestrians. But on the night of a terrifying earthquake, the sight of a dark light and golden comets lets her know that something big is coming. And she knows she's going to be in it deep.
1. Chapter 1

"MARIANNE, MARIANNE, MY love," I sang, looking above me to the wooden balcony we'd made specifically for this scene. "Come down to me, my love, come down and sing with me…"

My friend and fellow minstrel Cristine was standing up there, her long brown ringlets pulled away from her face. She looked down at me and sang, "My love, Robert, my love, how I long to sing with you; but alas, you ask the one thing I cannot do…"

We continued trading the snippets of song back and forth, me pleading, her refusing, as the audience watched. "Marianne and Robert" was one of Cristine's favourite songs, and usually popular with the people, too. We were hoping for a good payoff – we needed money for our stay at the Quester's Rest, and we needed to buy more food as well.

The song went on for a good ten minutes longer. At the end, Cristine leapt off the balcony and into my arms like we'd practiced a thousand times, and we performed a sweeping stage kiss. As I bent her over, turning our faces away from the audience, she giggled. "No matter how many times we do this," she whispered, "it still feels so silly!"

"Shh, they'll hear you," I replied, and swung her back up. We turned to face the audience and bowed, showing that we were done. There was a big round of applause, and I smiled. Who cared if anyone tossed a coin or two our way? I loved this more than anything in the world.

Back at the Quester's Rest, Cristine and I sat down and counted up the money we'd earnt.

"Fifty gold over here," Cristine said in her tightly clipped Coffinwell accent.

"I've got thirty-five," I replied. "Not a bad day. Enough for a couple nights and plenty of food, I'd say!" I stretched and felt the cloth binding my breasts down so I could pass for a boy trying to slide off. "Oh, dear," I said, laughing. "Give me a second, Cristine. I've got to get this stupid cloth off."

"And put on a longer dress, would you?" she said as I stood up. "Half the inn probably saw your panties when you stretched."

"What were you doing with your head under the table?" I asked. "You make up half the inn, sweetheart. I'm not changing. The wayfarers' clothes are incredibly practical, and comfortable besides. Not my fault you're a prude."

I grinned as I walked off. Cristine was always on me about modesty, but I didn't see the point. As long as I could move easily and I wasn't showing myself off to the world, I figured I was quite modest enough.

Patty, the lady who ran the inn, passed me as I headed into the bathroom. "Hey, honey," she said in her thick drawl. "You two have a good show?"

"Earnt eighty-five gold," I replied. "Maybe you ought to try hosting a show or two in here. Might drum up a bit of business, I think."

"Y'all may be onto something there," Patty replied, smiling. "I'll see about that. You and Cristine may be getting a few gigs before you leave town."

"We'd accept," I said, holding the door open just a second longer so we could finish the conversation. "Just so you'd know."

Patty laughed. "Good," she said. "I'll think about it. Now go let the girls loose."

"Patty!"

She laughed again as I let the door swing shut. My cheeks went warm. I might not have been as concerned about modesty as Cristine, but there were some things I just couldn't talk about without blushing red as a tomato.

A few minutes later, free at last, I grabbed some of our newly earnt money and set off to buy us some food. I'd noticed an items shop near the city's church. With any luck, it would have some food for a pair of hungry minstrels. As I headed over, I whacked shoulders with a tall, muscular blonde guy dressed in weird clothes.

"Oi, watch it," I snapped, and then stopped.

The guy had wings and a silver halo.

He'd stopped when I'd spoken to him, and was looking at me in shock. But he didn't say anything. He was holding completely still, like he hoped I would look away and keep walking if he didn't move. The longer I looked at him, though, the more uncomfortable he seemed.

"You're a Guardian," I said quietly.

The guy stared at me. "Impossible," he said. "You can see me? But you are a mortal."

"Which one?" I asked. "You, I mean. Cygnus or Tucana?"

His stare just went more incredulous. "I do not…" he said. "How are you able to see me?"

"If I knew, I'd tell you," I said wryly. And quietly. I'd learnt by that point that when you wandered through town talking to invisible people, you were generally kicked out. "So? I'm guessing you're Cygnus. Tucana sounds more like a girl to me."

When he didn't answer, I snorted impatiently. "Seems to me that if a mortal saw a Guardian, she ought to be the one freaking out, not the guy with a pair of wings."

The Guardian pursed his lips, not seeming pleased. "I am Cygnus," he said. "And I would advise you, mortal girl, not to be so flippant to one so many years your elder. Particularly when that one is a Celestrian, a being far superior to your own race."

I raised my eyebrows. "Sorry, mate," I said, not making any effort to hide the irritation and sarcasm in my tone. "Didn't mean to push your buttons."

Cygnus glared at me coldly, but I decided to ignore him and stalk off to the items shop. The encounter would rattle him more than it would me, anyway.

Because this hadn't been the first time I'd run into beings that no mortal should ever be able to see.

That night, Cristine and I had dinner at the Quester's Rest. The place was practically dead – aside from the staff, we were the only people there. Patty had drifted over to chat with us.

"Anyway, honey," she was saying, "this place really used to bustle. If you'd seen it fifteen years ago, before Edwinn left – jeez! You wouldn't even recognise it. But after Edwinn took off, well… He was the best of the best. No one could do it like him. I guess the rest of us just couldn't live up to it. Things really went downhill." She shook her head and sighed. "That's why I'm taking off tomorrow. Edwinn went to Angel Falls with his little girl Erinn. I need to find him and ask him to come back. This place was his life's work – he can't just let it die on us like this. He's the one guy who can save this place for sure."

She popped a cherry into her mouth and flipped her ponytail over her shoulder. Patty was twenty-five and one of the prettiest women I'd ever met. The fact that she was still single – unless you counted the Quester's Rest, which may as well have been her spouse – blew my mind. She was devoted to the inn. If you believed her – which I did, since what she'd said was backed up by the others who worked there – she'd been running it in Edwinn's place since he'd left, from the time she was ten years old.

"Good luck," Cristine said. With her high, quiet, pretty voice, you couldn't doubt her sincerity. "This place is great. I'd hate to see it go."

"Me, too," I said. "Hey, speaking of which, do you want me to go put that sign on the town board? I'm done eating anyway."

"That'd be great, honey," Patty said. "Thanks."

"Sure," I said. "Be back in a moment, you two."

I grabbed the notice off the inn's check-in counter and headed out into the Stornway twilight. As I headed up the stairs to get to the notice board, I noticed a glow across the way. The ghost of an old man was standing by the graves.

I sighed. I had no idea why I saw stuff like this. No one else I knew could see ghosts or Guardians – or Celestrians, as Cygnus had called them – or anything like that. Sometimes I talked to the ghosts and helped them to move on, but there were times when I couldn't. And even when I managed it, I felt all the emotions that had been tying them to the earth. Sometimes I would be useless for days. Once, the girl I'd helped to move on had been so sad that I had spent a week crying at the slightest provocation.

Cristine had been travelling with me for four years now, since the two of us were eleven years old. She knew I could see ghosts, and she understood when I went into depressions or whatever else after I helped one out. I'd never told her about the Guardians, though. She believed in them, but I thought that even for her, it would be a stretch.

I shook my head and continued. This wasn't the time. I needed to help out Patty and the Quester's Rest, not think about freakish me. The notice needed to go onto the board.

As I pinned up the paper, I felt something strange beneath my feet. I paused. The feeling was strangely familiar, but I didn't know why.

It came again, a little stronger. As it continued, I realised what it was: an earthquake!

The shaking grew stronger and stronger, and I almost started to panic. I hadn't felt an earthquake in almost five years, but I could tell that this was different. Why, I didn't know; it just wasn't the same. There was something unnatural about it.

There were screams from all around me. I was scrambling, trying to keep my footing on the unstable ground, when I spotted a faint dark light far to the east. It was shooting up to the clouds in fitful spurts. The clouds around it showed violet and black where the light passed.

Then there was another source of light. This one, though, was coming down from the clouds, and it was entirely different. About a dozen bright, golden comets streaked down from the sky, shooting off in all different directions. Two came towards Stornway and rushed overhead, not making a sound until they had already passed by. Then there was a rattling _whoosh_ which nearly blew me off my feet.

Slowly, the wild shaking of the earth began to steady and then stopped all together. Carefully, I let go of the notice board and took several unsteady steps. Then I hurried back to the Quester's Rest to make sure Cristine, Patty, Ginny, the cook Ralph, and the valet Daniel were all okay.

But my mind was only half on that. The earthquake had changed something. And the golden comets meant something big.

And I had a funny feeling that I would be involved.

* * *

Hi, kids! Writerchic97 here for round two!

It's good to be back! I know this chapter's pretty short - three pages according to Microsoft Word - but trust me, they'll get longer. "Song of the Souls" isn't going to update quite as quickly as "The Mortal Sentinel", I'm afraid. I've got school, plus there's an original story which I'm trying to work in as well. But I'm going to put my best effort into this. I hope you like it!

And, just in case you're not tired of this...may all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	2. Chapter 2

AFTER THE EARTHQUAKE, things went downhill pretty rapidly.

The next day, Patty came downstairs and announced that she was still going to Angel Falls after Edwinn. We tried to put her off the idea – the earthquake had triggered a landslide which had blocked off the only pass – but she wouldn't be deterred.

"I have to go," she'd said. "This place has no hope without Edwinn. Even just the few days it takes for them to clear the landslide could be too long. I'll go through the Hexagon."

"Are you mad?" I asked, horrified. I'd been to the Hexagon, once. There was a good reason why no one used it anymore – it was full of monsters and practically falling down on its own. The earthquake probably would have made things even worse. "Not even soldiers go through there, and they're armed and trained. The monsters'll tear you to pieces!"

Patty shrugged. "I'll be fine," she said confidently, but her eyes flickered. "Don't worry about me, honey. Just try to do your best in the shows."

But those weren't going so great, either. We'd announced that there would be three shows at the Quester's Rest, starring Cristine and me. Loads of Stornway's people had seen us perform our first couple days in the city, and they'd seemed to like us, but I supposed the earthquake had taken the edge off everyone's enthusiasm. Plus, there were other things to worry about.

The nearby monster population was increasing. It wasn't like they'd been uncommon before the quake, but afterwards they were everywhere. Only the city was really protected, thanks to the walls and Cygnus. I saw him several times over the next few days, usually outside the city fighting off she-slimes and winksters. I didn't talk to him, though. There was no point in irritating the guy who was helping to keep the city safe.

The biggest problem, though, wasn't the lack of business or the monster threat. The day after the earthquake, a few hours after Patty had left, a knight dressed all in black armour had come into town and gone up to the castle. Half the city had heard the confrontation once King Schott had got irritated. He was not a quiet man.

The knight, from what I'd heard, had demanded that King Schott "release" his daughter, Princess Simona, to him as his bride. Though the king's soldiers had driven the knight out of the city, it had cost them major injuries, and the knight hadn't stayed out. By the end of the week, he'd been back twice, demanding the same thing. King Schott had put a notice on the town board, asking for help in defeating the knight, who called himself the Wight Knight. But no one had volunteered. The Wight Knight was really strong – everyone was too scared to fight him.

I could fight, and I liked to think I was good at it, but Cristine had put her foot down when I'd suggested offering our services in fighting the Wight Knight. She wasn't afraid of a fight, but "it's just too dangerous. There are only two of us. What chance would we have against him?"

Cristine and I stayed in town a lot longer than we'd intended to, waiting for Patty to return. A week passed, and then eight days, and she still wasn't back. We were all getting worried. I'd gone out of the city several times to fight just to blow off some frustration.

Around noon on the ninth day, I was wandering around the city, fiddling with my whip, which I kept coiled up around my wrist when I wasn't using it. I was restless. We couldn't really perform anywhere – Cristine and I had stayed too long for anyone to care about the novelty of the acts. I'd just come in from a bout of fighting, so I couldn't go out and do that. And Cristine and I were basically broke, so even if I had wanted to go shopping, I couldn't have. I kind of wanted to go to the church, but the choir was rehearsing. No one was supposed to go in there then. So I wandered through the streets, bored and restless.

As I headed down the main street, back towards the inn, I noticed a barefoot boy in plain clothes standing by the stairs, looking down towards the inn. I kept going towards him. Then, as I got closer, I heard someone speaking.

"But I trust my instincts…and you should too! I know you've got what it takes, Erinn. Seriously, just quit worrying!"

I knew I did. That was Patty's voice!

A quieter voice spoke next. "If you say so…"

I hurried towards the inn, passing the boy and arriving at the stairs just in time for Patty to fling the door open and call, "Hey, guys! I'm back! And I've brought a big, shiny ray of hope with me!"

She led the small violet-haired girl with her – Erinn, no doubt – inside, and I followed. From the top of the stairs, I heard someone speak, but I didn't pay it any mind.

Patty led Erinn to the middle of the room and introduced her to the others, who were sitting at the tables. The introduction was followed by utter silence.

Finally, Ginny said, "Honestly, Patty! What were you thinking!?"

Erinn curled in on herself a little, looking uncomfortable. Ginny didn't take that as a hint to stop.

"This slip of a girl's going to run the inn, is she? We're on the brink of closing as it is. Are you trying to finish us off?"

Erinn looked about ready to cry. Patty stepped in. "Jeez, Ginny, calm down, will ya?" she asked impatiently. "D'you think I'd pick just any young thing off the street to run this place? Erinn here has innkeeping in her blood. She'll have us back on track before you can say 'welcome'!"

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Didn't you say the same kind of thing about me when you brought me here?" she asked. "And didn't you say you were going off to find 'the one guy who can save this place for certain'? No offence, but I'm not too convinced this is the 'guy' you were talking about." She folded her arms and looked away. Catching my eye, she rolled hers. I shook my head a little. Maybe Erinn didn't seem like she would be much help, but there was no need for Ginny to be so rude about it.

"Please, just give me a chance!" Erinn exclaimed suddenly, much louder than I would have given her credit for. "You won't find anyone who'll try harder than me. And I learnt all there is to know about innkeeping from my father!"

Ginny rolled her eyes again and turned back. As she did, I realized that the boy from outside had come in and was watching the scene from underneath his head of bushy, sort-of spiky silver hair.

"So your father was an innkeeper too, was he?" Ginny was asking. "And I suppose you're here to make your daddy proud, hm? Well, that's very admirable, but running an inn isn't just as easy as just turning up and promising to try hard, you know. And you can talk all you like about how much your father taught you, but we don't even know who your father was."

Patty looked at Erinn, smiling in a way that I knew meant she had something up her sleeve. "There it is!" she exclaimed. "The challenge we've been waiting for! Now's the time to show her, honey!"

Erinn blinked at her in surprise. "Um…" she said, "show what?" Then her face lit up. "Oh! You mean this?"

She reached into the heavy-looking bag by her side at and pulled out a golden trophy. I looked at it, trying to read the inscription on the base. By the time I'd managed to make out the words _Inncredible Inntertainer_, Ginny had stammered, "W-wait! That trophy…it's…!"

Patty had her hands on her hips and a triumphant smile on her face. "It sure is!" she said. "The Inny for Inncredible Inntertainment, awarded by none other than our very own King Schott! Well? Now tell me you doubt how good he was! And Erinn here shares the same Inncredible blood! Not bad, huh?"

_An Inny! _

None had been awarded in years, but as someone who travelled a lot and stayed in loads of inns, I knew about them. Every four years, the Innys were hosted as a contest to see what was the best inn in all of Schott's realm and tributaries. No one had won in years, though. Maybe Erinn wasn't this Edwinn guy who Patty had been talking about before she'd left, but if she was his daughter, then there was a good chance that Patty _had _found the one person who could save the Quester's Rest.

Ginny, Ralph, and Daniel were honest-to-goodness _bowing down_ in front of Erinn. I had to stifle the urge to laugh. The boy by the door had raised his eyebrows in a doubtful and slightly incredulous look.

"Um, it's okay, really," Erinn said, blushing. "There's no need to bow or scrape or anything."

She looked around, clearly searching for a way out, and then spotted the boy. He was turning away like he was about to leave.

"Oh, Erik!" she exclaimed, sounding pleased. "You came and visited just like you said you would! And so soon!"

The boy – Erik – paused, and then turned back and nodded once. "I thought it would be nice to look in and see how you were getting along," he said. "I am pleased to see that you seem to have a job already."

Erinn smiled. "Thanks, she said. "I'm afraid we've only just arrived ourselves, though. We're not ready to take any guests yet."

"Well, that makes me feel loved," Cristine said, smiling. "It's nice to meet you, Erinn. I'm Cristine. Over there, the antisocial girl with the spiky blue hair – that's Tammy. We're minstrels, and we've been trying to help out around here the past week or so."

I smiled and nodded to Erinn. She smiled back. I decided I liked her. She seemed really nice.

We were all quiet for a moment. Then finally, Patty turned to Erik. "So, you're travelling all on your lonesome, huh, Erik?"

He hesitated for half a second, and then nodded.

"That sure is risky, honey," Patty said. "Why don't you hang around here for a while till the inn's open? Come by later and I bet I'll be able to hook you up with some great guys who could help you out, okay?"

"Er, certainly," Erik replied. "I suppose I will see you rather soon, then."

He nodded to Erinn and Patty and then left.

I headed over to join the others in the middle of the inn. Erinn stuck out a hand, and we shook. "Good to meet you," I said. "Patty talked a lot about your father before she took off."

Erinn smiled. "Nice to meet you too," she replied. "But as for my father… I didn't even know about any of this stuff till Erik brought Patty to Angel Falls. I just hope I'll be able to live up to his memory."

_Oh,_ I thought. _That's why Patty brought Erinn back instead of Edwinn._

Cristine looked at Erinn sympathetically. "Don't worry," she said. "I'm sure you'll do great."

"But only if the two of you let us get down to business," Patty said. "Erinn, you guys get to work, okay? I need to talk to Tammy and Cristine for a second."

"Sure," Erinn said. She looked at the others. "Um, I guess the first thing to do would be to take a look at the bedrooms…"

She and the others set to work as Patty led us outside. We paused beside the well, and Patty turned to look at us.

"Look," she said quietly. "I know y'all travel around a lot. You heard me talking to Erik earlier. He's going to be travelling for a little while, and even though he seems like a pretty independent guy to me, it's dangerous to be out alone now, with all these monsters around. Would you think about maybe helping him out? I know a couple other people who I can talk to, but I thought I'd ask you two first."

"Um…" I said, looking at Cristine. She bit her lip.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "I mean, it's not like we'll be doing much different than what we already do. We'll just be with a couple more people than usual. Maybe we can help this Erik guy out a little bit."

I shrugged. "Maybe." There was something strange about Erik, maybe just part of my imagination, but it didn't seem like it. Something about the way the air looked behind him and above him; maybe just my imagination, maybe just something weird in the air, but I didn't think so. He was different. Maybe important.

Then I nodded. "Yeah. If it's okay with you, Cristine. I think it's a good idea."

Cristine smiled. "All right," she said. "I agree with that." She looked at Patty. "We'll do it."

Patty beamed. "Excellent!" she said. "Come back in about a half an hour. If you see Erik before then, pass on the message, all right? Thanks, you two!"

She hurried back into the inn. Cristine and I looked at each other.

"Why do I have the feeling we're suddenly in way over our heads?" she asked, smiling wryly.

"We're always in over our heads," I said, shrugging. "At least we might make ourselves useful while we do it this time." I smiled. "We'll find out soon enough, I guess. Come on," I said then. "Let's find something to do till opening time."

Half an hour later, the Quester's Rest was miraculously up and running. Erinn stood behind the counter. She waved at Cristine and me when we entered. Patty was behind the counter, too, but when we walked in she hurried out towards us.

"Hey!" she said. "Come on. Erik's not here yet, but I want to introduce you to the other guy who's accepted my little proposition."

She led us into the little dining room off the common room. A tallish boy with blue eyes and straight brown hair was waiting there. He had an iron rosary around his wrist and a plain oak staff in his right hand.

"Hi, Patty," he said when he saw us.

"Hey, Nick," she replied. "They guy's still not here yet, but I want to introduce you to the other two who'll be travelling with you. This is Tammy –" I nodded – "and this is Cristine." Cristine smiled and gave him a little wave. "Girls, this is Nick. He's a priest."

"Not technically," Nick said. "Not yet, anyhow. I haven't been ordained." He was definitely a Stornway native. The lilt in his voice was unmistakeable. "It's nice to meet you, Tammy, and you too, Cristine."

Before we could answer, the bell above the inn door rang, and Patty went to the door to the common room. "Ooh, there he is," she said. "Come on, you three. Let's get you all introduced."

She led the way out. Erik had sat down at one of the tables. He glanced our way when Patty called his name, and stood up.

"All right," Patty said when we reached him. "As promised, some help! This is Nick, a priest, and Tammy and Cristine. They're both minstrels."

Erik nodded, looking each of us up and down silently. Then he said, "Thank you, Patty. I appreciate the assistance."

"Anytime, honey," she said, and smiled. "Good luck on your travels!" Then she left, returning to her place behind the counter. Erinn moved over to talk to her. Erik turned on his heel and, without a word to any of us, headed out of the inn.

We hurried to keep up with him. Now, from behind, I tried to look more closely and see what the something was that I thought I'd seen behind and above him. It was very faint, a shimmer kind of like a heat haze. But I couldn't make out anything more than that. It was weird.

"Oi, Erik," Nick said, catching up and touching him on the arm. "You got a date? Or d'you reckon we could slow down half a kilo per hour?" Somehow, it didn't come out sounding rude. I admired him for that.

Erik slowed and looked at Nick. "Very well," he said. "I suppose speed is not a priority at this time."

"Want to tell us what's going on?" I asked. "I think we'd all appreciate it if you'd divulge the knowledge."

"The signpost in the middle of town," Erik said shortly. "Perhaps you have read the notice about this knight in black armour?"

"More than that," Cristine replied. "He's been causing a lot of trouble lately." She stopped short. "You're not thinking of fighting him, are you?"

Erik nodded once. "More than thinking of it," he replied. "I would appreciate it if the three of you would find some way to assist me in doing so. At this time, I wish to speak with King Schott about the duty."

Something about the way he'd said the second sentence, like we couldn't do anything more than help in some small, insignificant way, irritated me.

Clearly, he decided he'd told us enough, and started walking again. Cristine, Nick, and I exchanged doubtful looks and followed him. It looked like we were going to be in for an interesting time.

"State your business, wanderers."

The guards at the castle gate barred our way with their spears. One nodded to Nick like they knew each other.

"We are here about the sign asking for assistance in ridding the city of the black knight," Erik said. "If you do not mind."

I knew that was probably intended to be polite, but it sounded incredibly condescending to me.

Apparently, the guards felt the same way, because they surveyed him for a moment before one said, "In that case, you'd better go inside the castle and find out more about it." They raised their spears and stepped apart to let us through. Erik strode past without a word. The rest of us followed, throwing apologetic looks to the guards. Then I glared at the shimmering air behind Erik's back the whole way to the castle throne room.

We could hear what was going on before we got there. "Och, Simona!" King Schott was saying. "How many more times do I have to tell you? You're not to go and see him!"

As we got up to the top of the stairs and the throne room came into view, I could see the scene inside. King Schott was sitting on his throne, arguing with a pretty girl with light brown hair: his daughter, Princess Simona.

"And how many times do I have to tell you, Father?" she asked, her hands clasped in front of her. "The Wight Knight keeps coming to town because he's looking for me! Don't you see? If I go to him, then everyone in Stornway can go about their lives in peace again." She had a determined edge to her voice, even though it was somewhat quiet.

But her father seemed to be even more stubborn. "You're being ridiculous, lassie!" he exclaimed. "Do I look like the kind of man who'd sacrifice his daughter to that nefarious knight?"

"But, Father!"

That was when King Schott spotted the four of us standing in the doorway. "Wheesht!" he said. "We have a visitor. No more of your blethering! You there, approach the throne!"

We did. Nick, Cristine, and I bowed, and I shoved Erik lightly on the back to make sure he did the same. My hand went between what I realised were two patches of shimmering air, not just one. _What in the world is that…?_

"I am King Schott, master of this castle, and monarch of Stornway," King Schott said. "Did you come here because of the sign down in the town there?"

"Indeed," Erik said.

_"Sir,"_ I hissed. He turned his head to give me a chilly glare. I set my jaw and glared right back. I didn't know who he thought he was, but Schott was a _king_. He could be condescending towards the rest of us and get away with it – in theory, at least – but not to King Schott.

"Sir," Erik finished tightly.

King Schott didn't seem too offended – most likely he hadn't noticed at all. "You did?" he asked. "So you're going to help us defeat that no-good Wight Knight character?"

"Yes, sir."

"Crivvens!" Schott exclaimed. "You want to take up the challenge to defeat the Wight Knight? Tell me your names!"

"I am Erik," Erik said, "and these are Nick, Cristine, and Tammy." I clenched my teeth together. He managed to make it sound like the rest of us were just one thing, and an unimportant one at that. _How can someone be so formal and yet so bloody rude!?_

"Well then, you four," King Schott said, "you'd better listen to what I have to say. Obviously I have a good reason to ask a few passers-through to defeat this no-good knight." He glanced at Simona, thick blonde brows drawing together in something between anger and concern. "You see, that paddock only came and infiltrated my castle to try and snatch away my daughter!"

Simona met Nick's eyes wryly, and then glanced down at the floor. She sighed quietly.

"He's had the nerve to demand that she be delivered to him at Loch Storn by a certain time," Schott continued. "I'm convinced it's some kind of fiendish trap. I reckon he's trying to weaken my castle's defences by having me send my solders to the loch with her. Then he'll attack! That's why I want to employ a likely group of fighters such as your good selves instead."

"Och, Father!" Simona said, looking up sharply. "You can't possibly ask a few kids their age to do such a thing!"

"Thanks," I muttered, too quietly for either of the royals to hear. Cristine heard, though, and smiled. Erik seemed more miffed by the comment than any of the rest of us.

"Wheesht!" Schott said. I decided that that must have been his favourite exclamation. "I will not let that ruffian get the better of me!"

Simona regarded him for a moment. Then, softly, she said, "It's very sad, Father…very sad that you won't even slightly consider my feelings on this." And then she turned and walked off, her head held high and her shoulders back. I couldn't help admiring her poise.

Schott cleared his throat. "…Ahem. Sorry about that," he said. We turned back to look at him. "My lass likes to do the right thing, and she seems to think the right thing is to go up there and meet him. Anyway, I'd be much obliged if you could away to Loch Storn and make sure he's not up to any trickery. If you cross the bridge north of town…well, you know the way, don't you, Nick?"

Nick nodded. "Yes, sir," he said. "And Mum asked me to thank you for letting Dad and the other injured guards heal in the castle. She says she knows they'll be well cared for."

"Glad to set a few minds at ease," Schott said. "Now, be sure to give that knight a good thrashing if you find him, won't you? Just pummel the fiend into the ground! Naturally, there'll be a braw reward waiting for you when you get back. I'm putting all my hopes on you!"

"We will not disappoint," Erik said. He bowed – a little, at least – and then turned and left. The rest of us bowed hurriedly and all but ran out after him. _Idiot!_ I thought. _Is it so hard to wait five seconds? We're here to help, you know!_

As we caught up to him outside the castle, I heard a loud popping sound and something flickered into being next to him. It started out as a small pink light, and then grew into a small blonde girl with tan skin and pink wings. My eyes went wide. _A faerie!_

"This Wight Knight character's causing everyone a bit of grief, isn't he?" she asked. She had a really quick voice. "Could be our chance to get in a bit of good-deeding!"

I had been shocked to see the faerie girl, and it didn't help any when Erik looked at her. He could see her, too?

"The Almighty will be chuffed to pieces if we manage to make this lot thankful and get ourselves plenty of benevolessence," the faerie continued. "Everything's starting to fall into its place! Let's go and put that Wight Knight in his!"

She grinned and shrunk back down into the pink light. There was another pop, and she vanished entirely.

Erik looked back around and saw me staring at him. He raised a silver eyebrow. "May I ask why you are staring at me?"

"I'm not," I replied out of instinct. "Now are we going to the loch or not?"

He regarded me coolly for a moment. Then he said, "Of course we are."

He strode down the road towards the town gate, and Nick, Cristine and I followed. I was trailing at the back of the group.

This was going to be a long, weird companionship, I decided. _And I'm not sure I'll be able to keep from killing him long enough to find out exactly what's going on._

* * *

Hey again!

This week was interesting...I wrote this chapter during our hours of free time at my youth group retreat. We weren't supposed to bring electronics. I wasn't the only one who disobeyed that rule! I would have gone crazy - no writing, no music in the gym? Augh! And apparently I made somebody almost cry during our talent night. I think I'm proud of that - I sang "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" from Phantom of the Opera, so I guess if somebody wanted to cry it was a good think. ...I hope.

Anyway!

...I don't know where I was going with that...

Well, til next time, I guess!

May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	3. Chapter 3

I WAS LEANING up against one of the cliffs around Loch Storn, watching the shadows stretch longer and longer. We had been there for hours, waiting for the Wight Knight to show up. Cristine was sitting by the water's edge, dangling her bare feet in the clear loch. Her heels were lying in the grass next to her. Nick was fingering the beads on his rosary without really looking at them. Erik was standing across the way, leaning up against another cliff. His little blonde faerie friend – in her weird pink-light form – was next to him. She had been jabbering on most of the time we'd been at the loch. If she'd been paying attention at all, she would have noticed that Erik looked like he wanted to murder her. I couldn't blame him, honestly. She seemed very annoying.

Another half hour passed, and nothing happened. As the sky darkened and the first stars came out, I saw the faerie pop into her full form and say, "Huh! Still no sign of him! What sort of knight would stand a lady in the lurch like this? Why don't we go back to Stornway? We should go back and tell the king the Wight Knight didn't turn up."

She started to flutter away. I shifted, thinking Erik would probably walk out after her. Then she stopped. "…Why do I get the feeling if I turn around he'll be standing right there?" she murmured.

Then she glanced at the top of my cliff and went white as a sheet. "Y-Y-Y-Yikes!" she stammered. "I w-was only flapping j-joking!"

Erik and I both looked up. I gasped. The Wight Knight was seated on a black horse at the top of the cliff, looking down at us. I scrambled out to the middle of the clearing by the loch as he jumped the horse down. The others ran over to us. Cristine was still barefoot.

"Who are you?" demanded the knight, looking us over. "I have no business with you. Where is the Princess?"

When we didn't answer, he drew his sword and pointed it at us. "Release the Princess!" he cried. "Release my beautiful Princess!"

His faceplate slid up, and my heart stopped for a second. Glowing red eyes set into a weathered skull glared down at us from on top of the black horse. The faerie yelped and scrambled away.

Erik slid down to the ground and kicked one of the horse's legs out from underneath it. I had to admire his grace as we all moved out of the way. The horse buckled, almost making the Wight Knight fall off of his seat.

Nick bashed the knight in the head with his staff, dazing him enough that when he tried to stab back, he missed. Nick dashed out of the way, and Cristine and I moved in.

We each whipped up a flame and fanned them at knight and horse from opposite sides. We skipped back as each other's flames roared across, keeping ourselves from being burnt. The horse whinnied, terrified, and the knight roared in anger and pain. We had aimed well – only the knight had been hit by the flames.

The four of us moved in together, parrying the knight's attacks and landing blows of our own. The night-time air was full of the sounds of battle – shouts in attack and of pain, the noises of weapons colliding with skin and armour and other weapons, the terrified neighing of the horse. Erik proved himself extremely clever, fighting without a weapon but still causing a lot of damage.

Finally, the poor horse had had enough. It was a beautiful stallion, but it wasn't used to battle – the Wight Knight had taken it from the man who ran the weapons shop in Stornway. It reared wildly, clipping Cristine in the head with one of its hooves and throwing the knight off its back, and galloped away from the loch.

I moved to check on Cristine. She waved me off. "It's fine," she said. "Just a little bump. Worry about the Wight Knight!"

We all looked around to where he was picking himself up off the ground. But he didn't look like he was ready to jump back into the battle. His faceplate had slid back down during the battle, but it wasn't hard to see that he seemed utterly defeated.

"I don't understand," he murmured, looking at us. "Why would the Princess send you in her place? Why has my beloved Mona forsaken me? Does our promise no longer mean anything to her?" He sounded like he was almost ready to cry.

The faerie girl fluttered back over to us. "Any idea what he's on about, Erik?" she asked. Erik pursed his lips and looked at the faerie out of the corners of his eyes. She ignored the hint – or just plain didn't see it, I couldn't tell which – and kept chattering. "Who's this Mona? The princess in Stornway's called Simona, right? Not Mona. This knight's got a nail loose, if you ask me."

The Wight Knight's head snapped around to look at her. "Is, is that really true?" he asked. I blinked. _He can see the faerie, too?_

The faerie seemed even more shocked. "Yikes!" she yelped. "How come you can see me? You gave me a right flapping shock there!"

Ignoring her – probably the best choice – the knight looked around at us. "You have to tell me," he said. "Is the girl in the castle really not Princess Mona?"

Nick shook his head. "No," he said. "She's Simona."

The Wight Knight bowed his head. "Oh, woe is me!" he moaned. "So she wasn't my princess after all." He sighed. "Now you mention it," he murmured, "she wasn't wearing the royal necklace of Brigadoom…"

He raised his head, turning away to face the loch.

"…I was in a very deep sleep…" he said, probably to himself. "Then the earthquake happened, and I woke up in this strange land feeling as if I had been released from some kind of…prison… I'd completely lost my memory, so much so that I didn't even remember who I was any more. Then I saw that princess and it brought it all back to me. Memories of Mona and I."

He turned back to us. "I remembered that I am the Wight Knight. And I remembered that Mona is the princess of my homeland of Brigadoom. Princess Mona and I had sworn undying love for each other and were to be wed."

"So he went and confused Princess Simona for Princess Mona?" the faerie said. "Blimey! They must be the splitting imago of each other…"

Erik made a noise of assent. Nick and Cristine gave him odd looks, and then glanced at me. I shrugged.

"Hmm…" said the knight. "I must do the honourable thing. I must return to the castle and apologise for my mistake."

"Uh-oh," said the faerie. "I'd try and talk him down from that if I were you, Erik. It'll probably just make things worse."

The Wight Knight looked at her. "Make things worse? Yes, I fear you may be correct. Then perhaps you could take a message on my behalf?" He looked around at us. Four heads nodded.

"Tell them I won't go near the place again. I'm sure the real Princess Mona will be waiting for me back in Brigadoom. All I have to do now is find my way home."

He picked up his sword and slid it back into his sheath as he walked away.

We all looked at each other.

"Back to Stornway, then?" asked Nick. "I'm sure we can all use a night's sleep."

"I'll second that motion," Cristine said. We had fought well, but it hadn't saved us from getting battered. "They won't let us into the castle after dark anyway."

Erik was silent for a moment, looking us over. It was hard to tell in the dark, but I thought I saw his brows draw together like he was thinking about something. Then he shook his head like he was clearing his thoughts. "Very well," he said. "Let us go sleep."

And, true to form, he turned and headed off without waiting for the rest of us.

The next morning, we met in the common room for breakfast and then headed off to the castle. As we reached the top of the stairs before the throne room, I realised that another confrontation was preparing to happen.

"Mother, Father…" Simona said. "I've decided that I'm going to answer to the knight's demands."

We got to the door of the throne room and saw the queen put her head in her hands and sob, "Oh, no, Simona, please!" She sobbed again, her thin shoulders shaking.

Schott looked at her, seeming annoyed. "There's nothing to be crying over, you silly besom!" he said. "I'll never allow her to go! Ach, they'll be the death of me, these two…"

As his gaze drifted away, he spotted the four of us waiting in the doorway. Simona and the queen followed his gaze.

"Ah!" Schott said. "It's you! I've been waiting on the edge of my throne for you to come back. Hurry closer, now!"

We approached the throne and bowed. As we rose, Schott said, "It's good to see you back with us. So tell me, what news is there of the Wight Knight?"

Erik told the story shortly. "He lost his memory. He realised he had made a mistake in coming here – it was his belief that your daughter was his fiancée, Mona of Brigadoom. He left to find her. He will not be bothering you again."

Schott looked at Erik, and then at each of the rest of us. Then he stood up, expression thunderous. "And you believed him!?" he boomed. "Sounds like a ham-a-haddie to me. That blethering skite can't be trusted!"

"Father!" Simona exclaimed, indignant. "Why do you have such a low opinion of him? What did he ever do to you?"

Schott sat back down, folding his arms stubbornly. "Hmph!" he said. "I've never even heard of Brigadoom for one thing. That proves he must be lying."

He looked at us, and harrumphed again at the disbelieving expressions on our faces. "Here's the situation," he said in a voice that said _don't you dare argue_. "I'm sure that miscreant will be back here before long after my Simona again. So until you put a stop to him once and for all, you can forget about trying to collect any reward!"

Before any of the rest of us could object – I could see on their faces that I wasn't the only one who thought this whole thing was stupid – Simona said, "Why do you refuse to believe his story, Father? If he really is all on his own miles away from home, it must be terrible for him."

Schott looked at her, seeming pained. "Och, lassie," he said. "I'm doing all of this to protect you, you know. Do try to understand."

Simona looked like she was about to argue back, but then she stopped dead with an expression like she had just remembered something important. Without saying anything else to her father, she turned and sprinted past the guards and out of the throne room.

"Simona!" Schott yelled.

We hurried out before he could turn on us.

Outside the throne room, I heard Simona's voice. "Erik!" she said. "Nick, Cristine, Tammy."

We looked around and spotted her hovering beside the door.

"There's something I need to talk to you about," she said, forestalling our questions. "I don't want anyone to overhear. My room's through that door –" she pointed – "and to the east. Could we talk there? It's about Brigadoom."

"Of course," Erik said. We followed Simona out to her room.

When we got there, she closed the door behind us. "Sorry to ask you to come here like this," she said. "Father would just try to interfere if he overheard. You see, I have actually heard of Brigadoom."

"You have?" Cristine asked.

Simona nodded. "I remember it from a nursery rhyme one of the maids used to sing me when I was a wee girl. Maybe that song can give us a clue as to how we can help to fix all this!" Her pretty blue eyes were bright with excitement. "The maid's gone back to live in Zere now. It's a tiny village just to the west of Loch Storn." She smiled, and then sighed. "The Wight Knight isn't the evil character that Father thinks he is, I just know it. He needs help. Please do whatever you can."

"We will," Nick told her, touching her shoulder sympathetically. She blinked in thanks, and I thought for a second that I saw a tear. But it was gone a second later.

Then we slipped out of the castle and headed up north to Zere.

"This place really is tiny," Nick said as we approached the village. "I swear that tree is bigger than anything else here."

"Not quite," I said. "Close enough, though. They treat the thing like it's their Guardian." Cristine and I had been to Zere a few times to perform. They didn't have a lot of money to spare, but I loved performing there. The village was so tiny that anything new was wonderful. They always loved the acts.

At my words, Erik gave a soft snort.

"What's that for?" I asked, giving him a look.

"A tree as a Guardian?" he asked, raising his eyebrows disdainfully. "That is among the most idiotic things I have ever heard."

I rolled my eyes and decided to ignore him. If he wanted to be a prat about it, I wasn't going to stop him. _What on earth is his problem, anyhow?_

It wasn't hard to find Simona's old maid in a town so little. Less than five minutes later, we were knocking on her door. The conversation from inside paused and I heard a chair moving back. A moment later, the door was opened by a tall old woman with an aquiline nose.

"Och, we've company!" exclaimed the other old woman in the room, who was shorter and rounder than the other. "Welcome, welcome!"

"Erm, hello," Cristine said.

Erik got directly to the point. "One of you used to be the Princess Simona's maid, did you not?"

"Aye, that's right," said the tall woman. "I used to look after Princess Simona. Why do you ask?"

"We wanted to hear the rhyme you used to sing her," I explained. "The one about Brigadoom."

The old maid smiled. "Well, I can't deny a request like that now, can I?" She looked at the other woman. "You'll sing along with me, won't you, Petra?"

"The Right Knight ditty?" asked Petra. "Aye, I could sing that in my sleep."

They both turned to face us. Petra started it off.

_"Giddy up, giddy up, and away he goes!"_

_ "The Right Knight sets off on his steed, in search of evil he rides,"_ continued the tall woman. _"If he can defeat the terrible beast, he'll be home to wed his bride. The town is filled with laughter, preparing a feast fit for a queen,"_

_ "Och!"_ sang Petra. _"But then disaster, the Right Knight's nowhere to be seen!"_

They alternated the two final lines.

_"Bird, north, Brigadoomward on, tell her that her knight is gone,"_

_ "Bird, north, Brigadoomward on, tell her that her knight is goooone!"_

The old maid cleared her throat. "Well, that's the song, dearie," she said. "I hope it was to your likings. I hope you don't mind me asking, but why would you come all this way just to hear an old nursery rhyme?"

"We're looking for Brigadoom," Nick said.

The old maid nodded. "In that case, I'd pay attention to the part about the bird flying north. Why don't you try heading north yourselves and see what you can find?"

"We will," Cristine said. "Thank you. The song was pretty."

"Thank you, dear," Petra said. We left.

I pulled my map out of my bag. "North," I murmured, looking for Zere. "Okay, here we are." I put my finger on the little dot that represented the town. "But I don't see anything recorded north of here except Doomingale Forest."

"It is our only clue," Erik said. "I suggest we follow it. Perhaps your map is lacking."

I looked at him from under my brows. "There's no need to take a tone. I'm perfectly aware that this map may be missing a thing or two. But I'll be less likely to admit it if you're going to be rude every time something's not up to your standards."

"I am never rude," Erik said.

I folded up the map and put it back in my bag. "No," I agreed. "Just condescending. And disrespectful. And a prat. But rude? Never!"

He narrowed his eyes, but before he could say anything, Nick stepped between us. "And onwards to the north we go," he said pointedly. "Come on. Let's not argue."

I crossed my arms and looked away from Erik. "All right," I said. "Let's go, then."

Cristine inserted herself next to Nick, distinctly adding another person between Erik and me. I threw her a look. She gave me one right back.

As we rounded the tree, I heard a scream.

"S-Somebody help me!"

A plump man sprinted into town, breathing heavily. The Wight Knight rode in after him.

"Aargh!" yelped the man. "We're done for! Help! Heelp!"

"Why do you run from me?" demanded the Wight Knight, sounding annoyed. "I just want to talk with you. I mean you no harm."

"Dinnae gie me that!" spluttered the man. "I saw that witch in the woods out lookin' for ye, so I did! I real piece o' work, she was, red eyes a-blazin' an' all! Asked me if I'd seen her slave the Wight Knight, so she did! That's you, I'd wager. Ye're her slave, are ye not?"

"Do I look like a witch's slave to you?" the Wight Knight asked, offended. "I've never heard anything so ridiculous!" He rolled his eyes hugely, making his whole head go with the motion, and then spotted us.

"It's Erik, is it not?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"We have been trying to find out more about Brigadoom," Erik replied.

"You really didn't need to go to such trouble on my account," said the Wight Knight, sounding a little embarrassed. He hesitated. "So…were you able to learn anything?"

"The Right Knight," Nick said simply. The knight looked at him, head cocked to the side.

"The Right Knight?" he asked. "Yes, that's what they called me back in Brigadoom. However did you find that out?"

"A song," I said. "It's mostly about you, but there are a couple lines about Brigadoom. 'Bird, north, Brigadoomward on' – that's all there was."

The Wight Knight looked away. "Surely not!" he exclaimed. "There's a song about me!? This is all very odd. Surely I'm not just the figment of a storyteller's imagination?"

He looked back at us. "'Bird, north, Brigadoomward on'?" he asked then. "That's the only clue there was in the song?

We nodded. He pulled the horse around. "Then I suppose there's nothing for it but to follow the bird's example. Northward ho!"

With that, he tapped his heels to the horse's sides and galloped off.

"Shoot," I muttered. "Now how do we catch up?"

We followed the horse's tracks up north, through Doomingale Forest. The place was creepy. The trees were growing so closely together that none of them could get enough light, so they were all stunted and wrapped around each other, competing for what little sunshine they could get. Pools of murky, acidic water lay in the shadows, burning my skin when a ram raider splashed through a pool next to me. A chilly wind, one of the dying gasps of winter, blew through the trees. It was bringing heavy clouds with it.

Even though we were able to follow directly after the Wight Knight, it still took us a while to find him. It felt like we'd been trekking through the forest for hours by the time we came into a clearing. The wind seemed to pick up as soon as we left the trees, and I could see a storm moving towards us.

The Wight Knight was sitting still on his horse, looking over what looked to me like the ruins of a castle. Slowly, we joined him.

"No!" the knight said. "This can't be Brigadoom. I don't understand. How can I have been away for so long that it's fallen into such disrepair?"

He was silent for a second. I shivered as I saw a flash of lightning in the storm clouds. The thunder came a few seconds later.

"And where is my beloved Mona?" whispered the Wight Knight. "Princess Mona! Mona!"

He spurred his horse on and galloped into the ruins, still crying out Mona's name. We ran after him.

The first few drops of rain were falling when we came across his horse, tethered at the base of a staircase. I led the way up, pulling my hood up over my head. _He doesn't know,_ I thought sadly. _He doesn't know he's a skeleton underneath that armour. He doesn't know that he and Brigadoom have been gone so long that they've all but faded from memory. He doesn't know that Mona's probably long dead… Almighty, it'll kill him. I don't know if I can help him. He's a good bloke. Help him, please. Do what we can't._

Down a flight of stairs and around a hallway, I spotted the Wight Knight going through a doorway. We hurried to catch up and peered around the doorframe.

The Wight Knight had his sword out and was facing someone sitting at the far end of the room. I couldn't see anything of her, but I knew she was there, because she was laughing.

"Ka ha ha!" she cackled. "Welcome home, ma love. I've been lookin' eve'rywhere for ye. Ye wernae hidin' from me, were ye, ye naughty boy?"

I leaned around, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman. All I could manage to see was a bony bluish arm. I snuck around, trying not to catch her eye. The others followed me into the room.

Then I saw her. She had long purplish hair, blue-and-purple bat wings, and bluish skin. Her eyes were red pits.

"…Morag!" snarled the Wight Knight. "Now I understand. Now I remember everything. I left Brigadoom in search of you, so that I could destroy you."

Morag rose and stepped towards the knight. "Ka ha ha! But it was I who defeated you, an' wrapped ye in mah sweet, sweet embrace… An' I had ye all tae maself there for a century or two, in oor own private wee world o' darkness. Ye're all mine, an' dinnae forget it. Ye're my Wight Knight in shinin' armour…"

She smiled down at him. The knight settled into a fighting stance. "Enough!" he cried. "This is all your doing! What have you done with her? Where is my Mona?"

He leapt at Morag, whose eyes flashed darkly. Blasts of dark light from each eye struck the knight mid-leap and sent him tumbling to the floor. The light looked eerily like what I'd seen the night of the earthquake.

The Wight Knight struggled to his feet as purple and black energy crackled around him. "Graaaagh!" he screamed.

"Ka ha ha!" laughed Morag. "Ye silly nyaff! The earthquake broke the spell I placed on ye, but there's nothing can stand in the way o' true love! I'll put another spell of ye, and we'll be all alone together in the darkness again before ye know it. Just the two of us…"

The knight was writhing, and I didn't need an expression or a scream for me to be able to tell that he was in pain. I strode up onto the carpet in front of Morag, glaring. The others joined me.

"An' who might ye be, hm?" Morag asked, regarding us thoughtfully. "Ye're not here tae steal mah beloved Wight Knight away from me, are ye? Ha! Well, ye're a fool if ye are. Can ye not feel the strength of the curse I've put on mah poor wee darling? It's pure dead powerful!"

I hadn't needed her to tell me that. I could feel the thing from five feet away, wrapping its stranglehold around the knight.

"Dinnae worry yer pretty wee heid if ye cannae, though," said Morag, leering at me banefully. "Ye'll find out soon enough for yourself! Ka ha ha!"

Her eyes flashed again. I heard shouts from the others, but all I had time to do was curl in on myself and pray I wouldn't die.

Then the curse hit me, and I screamed. Electricity arced through my veins and danced on my skin, flickering between utter black and blindingly white behind my eyelids. I could hear the others yelling my name, but it seemed distant. The pain of the curse was all I could think about.

I curled in even more, my nails digging into the bare skin of my arms. _Let me go!_ I thought. _Let me go, let me – _

"LET ME GOOO!" I screamed, straightening and flinging my arms out. Suddenly the pain dissipated. The fingers of electricity hissed and crackled, fizzing out.

I stood there shaking, my mind blank from shock. _What in the…?_

Morag was staring at me in shock. "Wh-what…?" she said. "I've the cruellest, most crippling curses known tae mortalkind…how could they not work…?" She peered at me suspiciously. "Just what exactly are ye?"

_Don't I wish I knew…_

"If ye were mortal," Morag continued, "my curse couldnae have failed…" Then her eyes went wide. "…Wait, ye're not…one of them, are ye?"

I blinked. _One of who?_

"Ach, no!" cried Morag, not waiting for an answer. "We cannae be havin' this!" She readied her long-bladed knife. "Why couldn't ye just leave us in peace, eh? Now I'm goin' tae have to make yer pretty face a whole lot less lovely!"

She sprang at me.

"Cristine, pull her away!" snapped Erik, dodging in front of me and jabbing his elbow into Morag's stomach. Cristine grabbed my arm and pulled me to the side. She looked me in the eyes, her thin brown eyebrows knotted up in concern.

"Are you okay, Tammy?" she asked quietly. "What happened?"

"I don't know," I admitted quietly. "And I have no idea what Morag was talking about, when she was saying things about not being 'mortal'."

Cristine looked at me for a moment longer, and then touched my shoulder. "Come on," she said. "Let's help the Wight Knight."

We joined Nick and Erik in the developing fight against Morag. Erik glanced at me sidelong as I flicked my whip into Morag's arm.

"May I ask why you are staring at me?" I whispered as I backed towards him.

He gave me a look. "I believe you know, insolent girl."

"Yeah, call me that again," I said. "You're not changing your reputation as a condescending, disrespectful prat, you know."

He snorted softly and returned to the battle.

When Morag's eyes gleamed, I knew something bad was about to happen. I ducked behind my shield, hoping it would be enough. When I glanced up, I realised that the others were paralysed. _Oh, no…_

Morag grinned at me. "Now it's just me and you, mah pretty," she said. "And ye'll not win out over mah curse twice, no matter what ye are!"

Before she could strike, though, I flung out my whip, catching her across the chest and sending her reeling back. She stumbled into the throne at the end of the room and fell over. Before she could stand back up, I fanned a jet of flames her direction. She collapsed onto the ground and leaned against the throne, breathing heavily.

"No…" she moaned, "ma Wight Knight…oor eternal world together…no more…" She lifted her head to look at the Wight Knight. He was still struggling against the curse, but it was obviously losing power. "But, ma love…" she said, "ye must ken that ye cannae turn back the centuries. Yer beloved Mona is no more… Ka…ha ha… Now ye're doomed tae walk alone in eternal despair… Ka ha ha ha ha…!"

Her head drooped, and she faded away into mist. There was a flutter of motion around me as her paralysing spell vanished. I turned to look at the Wight Knight. The curse binding him had disappeared, but he had fallen to his knees.

"Princess Mona!" he cried. "It can't be true!"

Slowly, he looked at us. "With your help," he said, "I finally returned to Brigadoom. And yet…the passing of time has destroyed my homeland. And my beloved Mona is no longer here to welcome me." He bowed his head. "I came home at last…but alas, I was too late…"

The end of my nose started to sting like it always did when I was about to cry. This had to be the absolute worst way for him to have found this out.

"You are not too late."

All of us looked towards the door, where the voice had come from. A slender girl with light brown hair and pretty blue eyes stood in the doorway. She was wearing a white dress and a golden necklace with a ruby pendant.

"That necklace!" said the Wight Knight.

Simona – or was it Mona? – walked into the room and stopped in front of the knight.

"Princess Mona!" he said. "I don't…aren't you…?"

She smiled and shook her head. "I made you a promise," she said. "I swore I would wait for you, no matter how long it took." Then she held out her hand. "My beloved Right Knight…take my hand and dance with me! The first dance we would have had as man and wife…"

Slowly, the Wight Knight stood. "Princess Mona…" he murmured, looking down at her, "you forgive me?"

The princess just smiled.

The knight took her hand and they pulled each other close. As they began to dance around the room, I moved to join the others. Cristine had started to hum.

"Sing," I whispered. "I'll join you."

So we started to sing a simple duet. Nick looked at us, and then back at the dancing couple. He began humming along with us. Then, to my shock, even Erik started humming quietly - out of tune, but it was definitely a hum.

Our song echoed around the room as the princess and the knight danced together, too elegant for the ruined throne room. Then, as they paused, the Wight Knight began to glow. They looked at each other. Cristine and I stopped singing.

"Thank you, Princess," said the Wight Knight. "I know now that you are not my Mona. But…without you, I would have been doomed to wander forever in eternal despair."

Simona smiled. "I knew you were the Right Knight from the old stories," she said. "I just knew it. I knew there was a connection between us the moment you appeared."

"It is not unbelievable that you, who inherited the memories of my beloved Mona, would have felt so…" the knight said.

Simona's eyes went wide. "So I am Princess Mona's…!" she whispered.

The knight turned to us, and I realised that his feet were above the floor.

"Thank you, all of you," he said. "Without you, I would never have uncovered the truth. Now I have no regrets. Only gratitude…"

I knew what was coming next. The glow from the Wight Knight grew until I couldn't bear to look at it any more, but I couldn't look away. When the light vanished, he was gone.

After a pause, Simona tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and looked at us. "I know I was supposed to have left it all up to you, but I couldn't help myself and I just had to come along," she said, smiling sheepishly. Then she paused. "It's really very odd. When I was dancing with him, I heard a voice… A woman's voice… She was saying 'thank you'…"

She sighed. "Anyway, I must hurry back to the castle and tell everyone the news," she said. "I'll be sure to have your reward ready for you, so do stop by the castle as soon as you can." She smiled at us, and then turned and left.

The city was different when we got back. The atmosphere, which had been so tense and worried since the earthquake, had relaxed. Something felt like it was building, but not in a bad way. It was like I could sense the gratitude in the air.

"Ah!" said Schott when we got to the throne room. "It's you! Good to see you! Simona's told me everything." He shifted uncomfortably. "Sounds like that Wight Knight was having a tough old time of it. I felt a wee bit guilty in hindsight. Still, all's well as ends well. You did a braw job there. I'm impressed! Aye, and you more than deserve that reward I promised. I'll have them open up the treasure chamber. You just help yourselves. Take it all if you want to. Just climb the stairs behind the throne and go outside. East from there you'll see the treasure chamber."

"Thank you, sir," said Erik. I was surprised to see how willingly he bowed with us.

"Crivvens!" exclaimed Schott then. "I almost forgot! I've opened up the eastern checkpoint again. It was closed while all that stramash with the knight was going on. There's a big town beyond the checkpoint. Could be an interesting place for you to visit on your travels."

Cristine smiled. The town beyond the checkpoint was Coffinwell, where she'd lived until the two of us had met and teamed up.

"Aye, well…" Schott said, looking around the room.

Simona smiled and bowed to us. Then Schott said, "I hope you have a safe journey. And maybe you'll stop in Stornway again sometime? You'll always be welcome here!"

We thanked him and headed upstairs. Inside the treasure chamber, though, we stopped. I stared around at the room full of gold and jewels and other treasures, taking it in. I'd done this to help people out, I thought, _not to earn a reward._

"I can't do it," I said quietly, and laughed. "I can't take anything out of here."

All of us paused.

"No," Nick agreed. "I don't think we can take it."

So we turned around and left.

Outside of the castle gates, I looked around the city, and my eyes went wide. The gratitude that had been building up in the air was gone, but there were glowing bluish crystals lying everywhere. I could sense them. They felt like gratitude, like it had coalesced into these crystals. But none of the others seemed like they could see them.

The little glowing light that was the faerie girl expanded to her full size. "Nice one, Erik!" she cheered. "Looks like everyone here things you're the flea's knees now! See! Check it out! Benevolessence as far as the eye can see!"

_Benevolessence_. I had heard her talk about that before we'd gone off to fight the Wight Knight. Was that what these crystals were?

Erik looked at her out of the corner of his eyes.

"Oops!" said the faerie then, almost seeming a little flustered. "I forgot you can't see it. What a flapping idiot!" She smacked a hand to her face. Then she let it fall and said, "I'm sure the Almighty will notice what we've been up to now, anyway. We'll be back in the Observatory in no time, you'll see."

_The Observatory…?_

"We'd best flat-foot it back to the Starflight Express, then," the faerie continued. "Ready to rumble and roll, Erik?"

He nodded very slightly and then looked at the rest of us. "Go back to the Quester's Rest," he told us. "There is something I must attend to."

"What?" Cristine asked.

"It is of no importance," Erik said. "Go. And perhaps you ought to think of where it is you wish to go next. I may take some time. If I do, simply go on without me." He nodded to each of us. His eyes lingered on me half a second longer, and then he walked away. The faerie fluttered away next to him, saying, "Next stop, the Starflight Express!"

"Guys, go wherever," I said, watching Erik and the faerie leave. "I've got to go do something, too."

Cristine rolled her eyes. "Have fun, weirdo," she told me. "Nick, do you want to go back to the inn? Or shall we visit your father? He's back to work, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he is," Nick said. "Come on."

The two of them turned around and headed back inside the castle. Nick's father was the corporal of Schott's guards, and he had been injured fighting against the Wight Knight.

I headed down the road out of town. Erik had paused by the gate, waiting for the faerie. She was darting around, grabbing the crystals – _benevolessence_ – and bringing them back to him so he could put them in his bag. Then the two of them left. I followed at a distance.

Outside of the city, they turned west and headed for the mountain pass leading to Angel Falls. I pulled my cloak over my shoulders. The wind was blowing from the north, and far off I could see the edge of the clouds that had brought the storm to Brigadoom. If the wind didn't change, Stornway would be seeing some rain soon.

I followed Erik and the faerie through the pass and down the road. As we came around a curve, I stopped, my eyes wide.

A gold train was sitting in the clearing.

_What on earth!?_

"Hang on a minute!" exclaimed the faerie. "The Starflight looks exactly the flapping same! I was sure we'd have given it a new release of life by now. If the Almighty had noticed all our good work and decided to help out, it'd be all glowing… I can't have gotten the wrong end of the gearstick on this one, can I?"

"That is always a possibility, Stella," Erik said. He folded his arms. "This is rather disappointing."

Stella didn't seem to be paying him any mind. "No, of course not!" she said. "What am I saying? Come on, I'm sure it'll perk up once we get inside."

She fluttered up the stairs and into the train. Erik mounted the stairs but paused in the doorway. I moved around so that I could see better. The inside of the train was a bit dark.

"I don't believe it!" said Stella then. I could see her looking around inside. "It all looks exactly the flapping same! And after we went to all that trouble…has the Almighty decided to turn a blind ear on us or something?"

Erik sighed and stepped inside. The instant he did, there was a muted flash from the bag with the benevolessence, and the whole train lurched a bit.

"Yikes!" Stella yelped. I could see around Erik enough to see that her skinny little arms and legs were flailing wildly. I wished I could see his expression. "What was that? The whole thing moved when you came in just then…" She froze mid-flail. "When you came in! That's it! That's it, Erik! The benevolessence you got from helping that knight has given you back some of your Celestrian powers!"

My breath caught. I'd only heard that word the day we'd gotten to Stornway, when I'd spoken to Cygnus. _Erik is a Guardian!?_

It explained a lot, if it was true. Why he acted so weird, why he seemed to look down on everyone and everything, just like Cygnus had looked down on me… _Almighty!_

Stella had crossed her arms, a smug grin on her face. "It looks like my first instinct didn't stink after all! The Starflight will fly if she has a Celestrian on board!" Then she turned away. "But first you need to help people so you can get your powers back…" she murmured. "Get back all of your powers, and we'll have the old girl flying like a dream again!" She turned back to Erik, a triumphant look on her face. I shrank into the shadows behind a tree. "We'd better flat-foot it over to that town beyond the checkpoint. I bet it's cram-packed with people in need of our help!"

I didn't hear the rest of what she said, though, because I turned and ran back towards the pass and Stornway. Safely back inside the city, I slumped down against one of the walls, breathing heavily, my head in my hands.

Of all the strange situations I'd managed to get myself and Cristine into before, whether because of my freakish ability to see things no one else could or just out of stupid decisions, this was the strangest. Travelling with a faerie no one else could see except for our companion, the wingless, visible Celestrian and me…nothing else came close.

And travelling with them had already led into _more_ freakish situations. Already we'd met a knight whose body had died centuries ago and the evil witch who had imprisoned him. There was a lot more world to travel through, and lots more benevolessence for them to find.

What new surprises lay in wait for us when Erik and Stella returned?

* * *

Wow, okay...I was expecting this chapter to take a lot longer, honestly! But I was a little obsessive over it this weekend, I guess. Which is probably a good thing - the way my schedule's been recently, I probably won't get a chance to get on a computer that can access this site until next Saturday!

Anyway, I hope you're enjoying _Song of the Souls _so far. I know I'm having fun writing it!

May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	4. Chapter 4

CRISTINE WAS UNDERSTANDABLY excited as we headed along the path towards Coffinwell. She'd grown up there, after all, and even though her parents had died nearly four years ago I knew she still felt an attachment to the place. She was a lot different than me. Ten years in my home city and five of visiting a variety of others and I still had no idea what I considered my home. I envied her, a little. But then, I wasn't sure I could ever feel at home staying in one place. Even as a little kid, I'd had a strong sense of wanderlust.

"Oi, watch out!" I said, grabbing Cristine's arm as she nearly stepped into a hole in the grass beside the road. She jumped – back, fortunately, not into the hole – and managed to step on my foot. "Ow…"

"Sorry, Tammy," she said, looking at me. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," I told her, ignoring the urge to rub my foot. The bottom of her thick black high heel had stabbed right into the top of my leather boot. It would probably leave me with a bruise. "Just watch where you're going. You nearly twisted your ankle in that hole."

Nick and Erik had stopped to wait for us. Erik was standing several metres ahead on the path, arms folded, little faerie light at his side. Nick followed Cristine's example in asking if I was okay.

"Fine, really," I said. "Let's keep going. Off to Coffinwell, right?"

"Correct," Erik said. "Let us not dally." He turned and started walking down the path again. It was impossible, knowing now what he was, not to see the evidence. The strange, formal way he talked – nobody talked like that except for Guardians. How had I missed it before?

And, whether it was because of the benevolessence or just because I was watching for it now, I could make out a pattern to the air shimmers behind his back and above his head. Behind his back was a small pair of wings. Above his head was a halo.

_They do seem a little more defined now,_ I decided. _A little more solid than shimmer. Stella was right. That benevolessence is giving him his powers back._

But what had taken them away in the first place? That was the question, and it was driving me a little crazy. I kept going back to it, feeling rather like a dog chasing its tail. How did a Celestrian lose his wings and halo and become visible to humans?

"Don't you dare," I snapped at a leafy larrikin, uncoiling my whip with a flick of my wrist. It flinched back, and when I cracked the whip in its direction, it ran off.

"Oh, don't be so mean, Tammy!" Cristine said. "It was just being friendly."

"You do realise what that was, don't you?" asked Nick, amused. "I thought you grew up around here. You of all people ought to know that larrikins are never friendly! More likely he wanted a bite of Tammyflesh."

Cristine laughed. "Well, can you blame me for having a bit of hope?" she asked. "Things are finally starting to perk back up again after that earthquake. I'm in a nice mood."

How was she to know how quickly that mood was to be punctured?

The silence as we approached Coffinwell made me feel uneasy. Cristine and I had been there loads of times, and I knew that the place was usually bustling this time of day. It was strange that the place was so quiet.

"Jeremy," Cristine said to the young man sitting by the entrance. "What's going on here? Why's everything so quiet?"

Jeremy looked up at us, and when he recognised Cristine and me, his blonde brows drew in compassion. "Leave," he told us. "Now. Unless you want to go down with the rest of us."

"What the – what are you talking about?" I demanded. "Almighty, Jeremy, you make it sound like Coffinwell's a wrecked ship."

"It might as well be," he said. "I'm serious. Get out of here."

Erik slipped between Cristine and me – I supposed his shape, more slender than Nick's, was an advantage. "Do not fool around, boy," he said sharply. "Tell us what is happening here."

Jeremy looked at him, and I could tell by his expression that he didn't think much more of Erik than I did. He looked at me, eyebrows raised. All I could do was shrug and roll my eyes.

"Fine, then," he said. "Coffinwell has been infected with a contagion. It's spreading like wildfire through the city. There have been thirty deaths already, and it's only been after us since the earthquake. Half the people still alive are sick – some of them closer to death than you would believe possible. _I _wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes. The contagion spreads through the air. The victims cough. Then they cough up blood. Then they're taken with fever and headaches and cough still. We've got a dozen so feverish that they're delirious. Some people died of blood loss from the coughing. Some people died because they couldn't breathe. Some died of the sheer heat of the fever." He stared around at us, at the stricken expressions on our faces. "_Now_ will you get the bloody hell out of this doomed city!?"

"Almighty, Jeremy," Cristine whispered, her pretty green eyes wide in horror. "What…isn't anybody trying to do something about this?"

"They can't," he said bitterly. "People have tried. Nothing eases any of the symptoms, and those who try to help just fall ill themselves. That fool Phlegming has holed himself up in his laboratory even more, convinced he's going to find the answer to this bloody thing in musty old books. Poor Catarrhina's been worrying herself sick about him. I swear the git wouldn't notice if she caught the contagion herself."

"Jeremy!" I said.

"It's true!" he said, folding his arms. "I don't know much about this aside from the obvious. If you want to know more, maybe you ought to go talk to Mayor Laria. But if you're smart, you'll take my advice and leave before you set foot in this cursed place."

Nick, Erik, Cristine and I looked at each other. Stella bobbed in the air next to Erik, babbling something about bunches of benevolessence if we could help out the people of Coffinwell. It took an incredible amount of self-control to keep from glaring at her. Fortunately, Erik did it for me, and the faerie stopped.

Even without talking, we seemed to be managing a conversation. I could see the question in everybody's eyes: _what do we do?_ If we stayed here, we risked catching the contagion ourselves. But then again…these people needed help. We could talk to Mayor Laria and figure out if we could do anything useful. If we couldn't, then most likely we could leave quickly, before we caught anything.

It was the determination in Cristine's eyes that answered it. This was her home, after all. And Nick was a healer as well as a priest; I knew it wasn't in his nature to leave suffering untreated. Erik had his powers to think about. And I… Well, I was there to help in any way I could. I didn't have any ties to this place other than compassion and the concerns of my friends, but it was enough.

"Thanks, Jeremy," Cristine said, turning to him. "For telling us." She gave him a hug. "Good luck and good health."

Jeremy snorted, but his cynical expression – one I'd not seen on him until today – softened slightly. "Good luck to you as well," he said. "I should have known that telling you wouldn't get you out of here."

"Never," I said, and smiled grimly. "'Bye."

We headed up through the town. It really was eerily silent, aside from our footsteps, the hurried sounds of the few out on the streets, and the occasional noise of a hacking cough. I shivered and said a quick prayer for our safety and for theirs. We were all going to need it.

I paused outside the weapons and armour shop. My wayfarer's tunic was a bit shredded from our recent battles, and, my low concern for modesty notwithstanding, I felt a little exposed. "Would you guys mind if I popped in here for a moment?" I asked. "I need to find some clothes that haven't been destroyed."

"Go on in," Nick said. "We'll talk to Laria."

Erik didn't say anything. He just started walking again.

I ducked inside the shop and started browsing. In all honesty, I hated shopping; I just wanted to find something serviceable and get out. Fortunately, luck was with me. I found a sturdy-looking iron cuirass and some kneecaps, too. I scooped them up, along with a pair of denim pants and a green shirt, and went to the counter to pay. The man behind it looked at me a little oddly – he must have been surprised to see an outsider here, with Coffinwell in such a state – but he didn't say anything except the price of the goods and "Have a good day". I changed quickly, chucked my old tunic, and hurried outside to catch up with the others.

As I headed up the stairs to Laria's library, following the maid's directions, I coughed to try to loosen up my chest. All the iron I had on was weighing me down. I wasn't used to wearing such heavy clothes. But I supposed they would be quite useful in battle.

"…passed them on to Phlegming in the hope that he might be able to make some sense of them," a man was saying. "I imagine it won't be long before he turns something up, but I'm afraid I'm rather loath to go and ask him in person."

I got to the doorway of the library just in time to hear him say, "Of course! You care about what's been going on here, don't you? In that case, perhaps you could pop along to Phlegming's place and see how he's getting on? His house is just to the west of my mansion. Sorry to trouble you, but I really would appreciate it if you paid him a visit."

"It would be no trouble," Erik said. As he and the others turned, he spotted me and said, "Oh. Good, you are here. We are going to speak with Dr Phlegming."

"Yeah, I heard," I said, falling into step with them as we headed away. "So…why?"

They explained as we walked. Mayor Laria had told them that this same disease had hit Coffinwell about a century previous, and he had started looking through old manuscripts for solutions. Since he couldn't understand them, he had given them to Dr Phlegming, his son-in-law. But, as the two of them didn't get on well, Laria wanted us to ask if Phlegming had found anything.

They hit the end of the story about the time we reached Phlegming's house. Erik knocked on the door once. Then, when we got no answer, he knocked again. Then he tried the knob, found it unlocked, and led the way inside.

Catarrhina, Phlegming's new wife, was lying on the bed, clearly fast asleep. Her pretty green hair, tied back from her face with a pink bow, was coming a little loose and was sprawled out on the pillow.

Nick cleared his throat loudly.

Catarrhina didn't move.

"Erm, excuse me, Miss Catarrhina…" Cristine said. But she was a quiet person – her voice was hardly louder than the throat-clearing.

"Miss Catarrhina!" I said loudly. She started, eyes popping open, and sat up. When she saw us, she blushed.

"Oops!" she said, getting up hastily and smoothing down her dress. "Sorry, I must have dozed off. …I seem to be doing that an awful lot lately…"

She was such a sweet woman. I'd only met her once or twice, but I liked her.

"…Oh! Ahem, are you looking for Phlegmy, by any chance? Oops!" she said again, blushing deeper. "I mean Dr Phlegming, my husband." Then she giggled. "Eek! Husband! I feel all silly calling me that." She giggled again, and then looked at us sheepishly. "Do excuse my waffling! I'm afraid Phlegmy's at work now in his laboratory."

"Mayor Laria asked us to talk to him," Cristine said.

"Really?" Catarrhina asked, her brows drawing together. "Well, in that case, I'll go along with you and let you into the laboratory. Phlegmy's a bit shy around strangers, you see." She started for the door, and then stopped. "Oops! Where are my manners? I haven't introduced myself to your friends, have I?" She smiled at Erik and Nick. "I'm Phlegmy's wife, Catarrhina. I'll go on ahead!"

I stifled the urge to cough again as we headed out the door and down to the laboratory. As we walked, Catarrhina murmured, "I can't believe Daddy would ask a stranger to visit Phlegmy. Does he really find him that hard to talk to?" She coughed quietly.

We got to the door. "I'll get him to open up, then," she said, and then knocked in an odd pattern.

A man's voice from inside said, "Catarrhina? Is that you? What are you doing here at this hour?"

_What hour?_ I wondered. It wasn't even noon yet.

"Sorry to disturb you, Phlegmy," Catarrhina called. "You have a visitor. Daddy's sent a messenger to find out how you're getting along with deciphering the old manuscripts."

The voice harrumphed. "Well, I suppose you'd better come in, then."

As we entered, I saw a man in a white jacket with a scruffy ponytail sitting at a desk. He was facing away from us. "I have a million and one things to do at the moment, but I suppose a messenger from Father-in-law takes precedence." He turned and stood up, revealing a pair of bright blue eyes behind white-framed spectacles, and a set of whiskers, scruffy to match the hair.

"So, what can I – ah, that's right," he said. "You've come to find out how I'm getting along with those manuscripts, haven't you?"

"You're forgetting something, Phlegmy!" Catarrhina said, throwing Cristine a look of joking exasperation. Phlegming looked at his wife and blinked, like he really hadn't the slightest idea what she was talking about. "You haven't introduced yourself yet."

"I don't see how that matters," Phlegming said, adjusting his spectacles. "Silly, time-consuming formality, in my opinion."

Catarrhina looked at him, head tilted to the side. Phlegming sighed. "Oh, very well," he said. He looked at us. "Pleased to meet you. The name's Dr Phlegming. I study archaeology and the like. And you are?"

"We've met, sir," Cristine said. "Briefly, at least. I'm Cristine; this is Tammy, and Nick, and Erik."

Phlegming nodded once, a sharp, no-nonsense motion. "Well, I'll try to remember your names, but I can't guarantee I'll be successful. Anyway, never mind that," he said, laying a hand on the mess of books and papers on his desk. "I think I've found a clue in the old manuscripts as to the nature of the illness that's been going round."

Catarrhina's face broke into a beaming grin. "Oh, Phlegmy!" she cheered. "I knew you could do it!"

Phlegming smiled slightly at his wife's praise. "Around a hundred years ago," he said, "some old ruins were discovered to the west of town. The people who discovered them rather rashly decided that it would be a good idea to venture inside. Little did they know that terrible misfortune lay in wait in the form of a deadly contagion. It's this contagion that lies behind our current epidemic."

He turned to the desk. "According to the manuscripts, it's actually more accurate to refer to it as a curse than a disease. The townspeople were able to break the curse by sealing the contagion away in the ruins and blocking up the entrance."

"But for some reason the disease has managed to escape again?" Catarrhina asked.

Phlegming turned to Catarrhina. "It's possible that the recent earthquake may have caused some damage to the seal that was keeping it contained." He shrugged.

"So all we have to do is go to the shrine and seal it away again?" asked Catarrhina. Her eyes were bright with excitement.

"Indeed," Phlegming replied. "Although it's not quite as simple as it sounds. I'm probably the only one who'd be able to do it, in fact."

Catarrhina beamed. "Ooh!" she exclaimed. "So you're going to fix the seal and save us all, Phlegmy?"

"Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt," Phlegming said, reaching out to tousle his wife's hair. She giggled. "It might even encourage your father to finally think me worthy of you. It would also be a good opportunity for me to explore the ruins, so I'm certainly not averse to the idea. The only problem is that monster activity there is reportedly rather heavy, and I don't want to get hurt…" He made a face and adjusted his spectacles again.

There was a brief paused, which I managed to interrupt with another cough. Then Catarrhina cleared her throat. "Well, perhaps you could report back to Da – um, I mean the mayor, and tell him what you've learnt. Now we know what's causing the disease, that's a huge step forward. You really are amazing, Phlegmy!" She hugged him, and then coughed. "Sorry, I must have –" _cough_ – "got something caught in my throat in all the excitement." She blushed.

I followed Catarrhina's example coughing as we headed up to the mansion. As I took my arm away from my mouth, I saw red on my arm, and I froze, my heart stopping for a few beats before it started up again, faster. That was blood, and it wasn't from a cut. I'd just coughed that up.

"Tammy, you okay?" asked Cristine, pausing and looking at me. "You look like you've just seen a ghost!"

I wished I'd just seen a ghost. Ghosts were easy to deal with. I wouldn't have reacted like this if all I'd seen was a ghost.

"Ta…oh, no!" Cristine's eyes went wide. "That blood…"

The others had stopped, and all three of them were staring at me in horror. I couldn't breathe properly. No. No, no, no, no no no _no_!

I had caught Coffinwell's contagion.

I made sure to sit downwind of the others when we stopped to discuss our options. It was probably a useless effort, since the contagion was all through the town, but I didn't want to take the slightest risk of infecting them. I sat about a metre away, too.

"Don't be stupid, Tammy," Nick said, looking at me. "It doesn't matter where you sit."

I shrugged. "It matters to me."

Nobody argued.

"So what do we do?" I asked then. "Helping Phlegming looks like our only option now." My voice stayed perfectly steady, my years of acting helping me to conceal my panic.

Erik nodded once. "But I think it would be best if all of you stayed away from these ruins," he said. "If it is indeed the source of this contagion, the risk of illness would be far higher in there. I shall go with Phlegming alone."

He was immediately peppered with objections. It was too dangerous – what if he caught the contagion himself – we weren't going to sit around while there was work to be done – it didn't make any difference whether we were in the illness-ridden town or in the ruins.

"Enough!" Erik said sharply, glaring around at us all. I tried to stifle another cough and only half succeeded. He spared me a glance, and then resumed his argument.

"I have never been ill in my life, and I do not intend to begin now," he said. "And the risk _is_ higher there. It would be safest if you stayed outside the city, though Tammy ought to stay in to try to find treatment."

"Like flip I will!" I snapped, glaring at him. "I'm not going to lie here waiting to die while you and Phlegming go off and play the antisocial heroes. I'm going with you whether you like it or not."

"And so am I," said Nick and Cristine almost simultaneously. Erik and I both glared at them.

"_You_ will stay out of it," I said. "Neither of you are sick yet. I'll believe that Erik will be okay, but you, Cristine, are too prone to accident and incident for me to even think about letting you go to the place where this thing started. And I'm trusting Nick to make sure you don't follow us."

"Who's to say I won't follow you myself?" Nick asked mulishly.

"And who is to say that I will allow you to accompany me?" demanded Erik.

I crossed my arms and glared around, daring them to argue with the sick girl. Then I broke into a coughing fit.

"Oh, Tammy…" Cristine murmured. I held up a hand to tell her to stay back.

I managed to get my coughing under control and straightened back up. "Go," I said. My voice sounded weird. "Get out of the city and stay there until we get back." Cristine and Nick both hesitated. "Now!"

Cristine bit her lip. Then she dashed in and crushed me in a hug before dancing back and touching Nick on the hand. "Come on," she murmured. "Let's go." She led the way back towards the city gate. I stared after them until they both vanished from view.

Then I turned and found Erik watching me, violet eyes inscrutable beneath his silver brows. "What?"

"You are a strange being, Tammy," he said. "Are you not the slightest bit frightened?"

What did he care? The prat, he was probably just asking so he could snort and turn away when I said –

"Of course." The words slipped out almost of their own accord. "I'm terrified! But it doesn't make much difference, does it? It doesn't change what needs to be done." I shrugged. "I know better than to ask you whether you're scared or not. Is that no-sickness thing just you, or is it a Celestrian thing in general?"

Erik froze, staring at me. "What?"

"You heard me," I said. I was suddenly feeling weirdly bold. "Is it just you who doesn't get sick, or is it a Celestrian thing?"

"A Celestrian…" Erik was still staring at me. He seemed almost lost for words. Unfortunately, Stella didn't seem to be.

"What!" she squawked, expanding to her full size and peering at me curiously. "Well, how in flap did she ever figure that one out? You don't look like a Celestrian anymore, that's for sure. I don't –"

"Oh, shut it, Stella!" I snapped. She reeled back, eyes wide.

"Flapping flip!" she exclaimed. "You can see me?"

"I can see you, I can see ghosts, I can see Erik and the rest of the Celestrians too!" I said. "Honestly, it's usually Celestrians who're the worst to deal with, but I think you're well on your way to taking the prize yourself, you mouthy little faerie."

Those words managed to spark what was most definitely the strangest argument I had ever been in. We all began shouting over each other at once.

"Celestrians worst to deal with – you insolent, upstart little brat, you have not the slightest idea –"

"Taking a flapping prize! I'd like to give you a slice of my mind and I hope you choke on it –"

"Condescending prats, the whole lot of you, all bloody formal and polite but the absolute most high-and-mighty creatures I've ever encountered – act like you're as far above us as the Almighty Himself, honestly –"

And then my chest seized up and I broke into another coughing fit. As the coughing grew thicker, I started panicking. Every time I tried to draw breath, the air tickled my throat and made me need to cough again. I couldn't breathe!

Erik whacked me on the back, hard, and I managed to hack up a disgusting combination of blood and phlegm. I spat it out on the stones, and wiped my mouth. "Yuck," I muttered. "Thanks."

He nodded, watching me. I cleared my throat (there was still a little phlegm sitting there) and turned away, heading up the stairs towards Laria's mansion. When I didn't hear his feet behind me, I paused and glanced back. "Aren't you coming?"

For a long moment, he looked at me silently. Finally, he said, "You truly are a strange being, Tammy."

"Not really," I said. "Everyone has their little quirks. When it boils down to it, I'm just like everyone else." I shrugged. "I'm only human."

"Ah, I was wondering where you'd got to," Mayor Laria said. "So, what did you find out?"

I let Erik do the explaining and tried to keep from coughing. When Erik finished, Mayor Laria sat back in his chair.

"Very well," he said. "The situation is clear to me now. Hmm…"

He looked us over for a moment. "Well, you look like you can take care of yourselves fairly well. I don't suppose I could interest you in going along with Phlegming?"

I half-laughed, half-coughed. There had never been any question!

"Safety in numbers and all that," Laria continued, oblivious. "If he thinks that the shrine is hazardous, then I'm sure he'd appreciate some bodyguards. Naturally, I'd make it worth your while. What do you say?"

The corners of Erik's lips pulled into something that could almost be seen as a smile. "Sir, there was never a question as to whether we would help. The only question was _how_, and now you have answered that for us."

"Excellent, excellent!" Laria said, smiling. "Much obliged and all that. Well, we'd better not waste any time. Take this key to Phlegming, won't you?" He handed Erik a strange-looking key. "That's the key to the shrine west of town. You should be able to open it up with that."

"Thank you," Erik said.

Stella popped up to full size, beaming. "Sealing away a deadly disease is the perfect way to help people!" she cheered. "Imagine how grateful they'll all be if we succeed! We'll have barnloads of benevolessence! You'll be a fully fledged Celestrian again in the wink of an eye!"

When we finally got out of the mansion, I let loose a hacking cough which had been building up the whole time we'd been in there. Erik looked at me as I finished.

"You truly ought to stay out of this," he said. "You are in no state to be fighting. It would be best if you remained here and allowed me to take care of Phlegming."

I shook my head. "No. I'm not going to lie here and wait to die while someone else does the dangerous work. I'll be well enough. As long as I have a hand to whip with, I'll fight. Come on. Phlegming's waiting."

But I had to send up a quick prayer. _Give me strength, Almighty. I know I'm talking big, and I really should stay here, but I just can't. Help me to do this. _

Phlegming looked at the key Erik held out to him. "Hm?" he asked. "What's that key you've got there?"

"The key to the ruins," Erik said. "Mayor Laria gave it to us for you."

Phlegming took it and examined it. "Well, I'd better go, haven't I?" he murmured. "I don't want the old man to think I'm all mouth and no trousers."

"Um, I'm not sure it's quite like that, Phlegmy…" Catarrhina said doubtfully.

He smiled and pulled her into a quick hug, kissing the top of her head. "There's no time to stand about discussing the whys and wherefores," he told her. "I need to leave for the shrine right away." He glanced over at us. "Don't keep me waiting!"

As we left, I heard Catarrhina cough again. I glanced back at her, concerned, but she just smiled and waved me on. So I let the door swing shut, holding back a cough of my own. Not that Phlegming would be likely to realise I was sick, but if he did, he'd probably send me back to Coffinwell. And there was no way I was going to put up with that.

Fortunately, we didn't have much trouble with monsters on the way to the ruins. Phlegming was clearly impatient, and I wasn't at all convinced that he would have waited for Erik and me to finish fighting before he kept going. When we entered the ruins, we were faced with a wall which had crumbled in the centre. "See here?" Phlegming asked, gesturing to it. "It's just as I said. The shrine wall collapsed in the earthquake, and the entrance has been left wide open. It doesn't bode well for the seal that's supposed to be keeping the contagion contained." He turned to look at us. "We'd better head inside. Make sure you do what you said you would. I can't afford to get injured."

"Yes, sir," I started to say, but he turned and headed in before I could get the words out. I'd been right earlier when I'd talked about him and Erik playing the antisocial heroes. That's exactly what they would have been doing.

We hurried after him as he strode into the ruins proper. Inside, we found that he'd paused in front of a rock. It was carved with a verse:

_When the sages reawaken,_

_ Comes crimson light and blue,_

_ Travel right, oh guiding light, _

_ And make the doors swing to._

Phlegming pointed to the stone doors behind the rock, which were set with blue and red stones. "That's one of the things the townspeople used to keep the contagion contained. We'll have to figure out how to open this."

He examined the words for several moments while Erik and I stared around warily. The ruins were dark, creepy, and heavy with the stench of sickness. I had to bend over and cough violently several times, despite my best efforts to the contrary. Then I wiped the blood off on my cuirass, hoping the scent wouldn't attract the monsters that were bound to populate this place.

Then Phlegming straightened, said, "This way," and headed off down the path to the right. Erik and I went with him, taking up positions just behind. It would have been better if one of us had been in front of him, instead, but neither of us knew where we were going. We'd just have to hope we spotted whatever was in front of Phlegming before it attacked.

Phlegming led us to the end of the path and then turned north, past several tarnished mirrors and finally to the statue of a man holding a wand. He examined it for a moment, and then pressed a button on the wand. A beam of crimson light appeared, streaming from the statue and bouncing off the mirrors.

"The next should be over here," he said, pointing down the corridor leading left, and started walking. I snapped my whip into the wrappings of a mummy boy who had gotten too close for my liking, and then hurried to catch up to Phlegming and Erik. My chest was feeling incredibly tight, and I was starting to develop a headache. Maybe this had been a stupid idea. I was ill. I wasn't sure I'd be able to fight much longer before the sickness got worse.

By the time we reached the blue sage, my breathing was fast, but shallow. I gritted my teeth and tried not to let it show. I wasn't going to give into this stupid contagion. Maybe stubbornness couldn't beat a sickness, but I was sure going to give it a shot.

When Phlegming pressed the button on the blue sage's wand and the light shot out, there was a loud grinding noise and the ruins shook.

"The doors," I murmured hoarsely.

Phlegming nodded and started down the path. Erik looked at me.

"You can stop if you must," he said. "Phlegming may not notice how ill you are, but I am not quite blind. You are in no state to be doing this."

I shook my head and tried not to be too conspicuous about the fact that I was leaning rather heavily against the wall. "I'm fine," I said. "Let's go."

I'd lied, of course. Whether it was the proximity to the source of the contagion or just the illness taking its course, I felt worse every moment. I was close to exhausted by the time we reached the now-open doors to the inner part of the ruins.

On a dais inside, a jar lay on its side, a large part of it cracked and lying on the ground. A strange symbol was drawn onto the front.

"Fascinating!" Phlegming said, approaching it and looking around. "It's just as the manuscripts described. The jar over there must be where the contagion was sealed away."

He kneeled down and examined it. "And just as I feared," he murmured, "it was damaged in the earthquake." There was a pause while he looked it over again. Then: "Ah, we're in luck! The section with the seal drawn on it is still intact. Patching this up should be a piece of cake for a top archaeologist like myself." He started rummaging around on the floor by the jar, collecting the broken pieces. "I just need to get all of the pieces together…" He gathered them in his arms and moved them closer to the jar. "And then take my special glue…"

As he began patching up the jar, something started gathering above it. It was accompanied by a stronger stench of illness, which intensified as the thing grew more corporeal. Finally, it revealed itself to be a hideous pink monstrosity with three eyes on stalks and green slime dripping from its mouth. I almost retched, and couldn't help backing up a pace. I managed to run into Erik, who put a hand on my arm to move me slightly out of the way.

"Are you no-good, nose-pokin' buckaroos here to try and cram me back into that teeny-tiny little ol' pot?" it asked in a voice that sounded like congestion and phlegm and coughing. It had a thick drawl, like Patty, but where it sounded friendly and endearing in her, it sounded threatening in this thing. "Well, I ain't gonna let y'all, y'hear? Uh-uh, no siree! The Ragin' Contagion's gonna keep a-ragin'! Ragin', ragin', ragin'!"

Phlegming scrambled back, disgusted and frightened. "S-so this is the contagion that's been troubling the town? Drat! I haven't finished f-fixing the jar yet." He looked at Erik and me. "Don't just stand there!" he cried. "If you don't do your job and fight that abomination, I can't do mine! I need more time! Go on, keep it occupied while I get this jar back together!"

The Ragin' Contagion turned to look at Erik and me. Erik stepped up beside me and pushed me back a little.

"Sakes alive, ya pesky critters!" it said. "I'm gonna have to send your sorry hides to the bone orchard once and for all!"

Erik didn't bother saying anything – he just sprang at the Contagion and lashed out with his right fist. There was a disgusting squelching sound as it made contact. He had to yank his hand out of the Contagion's soft flesh as he landed.

I uncoiled my whip and cast a quick spell, knowing it would drain me less than trying to fight outright. A huge icicle formed above the Contagion and came crashing down on its head, driving its central eye stalk down into it. As the icicle disappeared, the eye stalk came out again with a weird popping noise. _Gross._

Then I stumbled back as the Contagion lunged at me, opening its mouth wide. Its nasty jaws only caught part of my right arm – not my whip hand, thankfully – but it ripped several gashes into my skin and left behind the green slime, which burned at the gashes and left some fume drifting up to my nose which had me coughing when I breathed it in. My whole body shook as I coughed, unable to stop. I felt dizzy. Then I stumbled – or I thought I did; I couldn't tell which way was up or down – and fell against the wall, still coughing. I went hot all over, and then cold; I shivered, and then slumped down against the floor. I was still coughing. There was something hot and thick in my throat. I couldn't inhale past it.

"Tammy!" yelled Erik, but I couldn't see him. There were black spots swimming in my vision. There was another nasty squelch, and then I heard feet drumming on the stone, running towards me. "Almighty – I told you that you ought not to have come –"

He kept talking, almost sounding panicked, but I stopped being able to focus on the words. The lack of oxygen going to my brain made it impossible to pay attention to anything except getting a breath of air. And I couldn't do that.

Something hard pounded against my back, almost making me choke on the blood in my throat. A sudden increase in the stench in my nose made my stomach turn, but I couldn't throw up. I couldn't even retch.

The Contagion's voice sounded from almost directly above me. There was another pound on my back, and I choked up a glob of blood and phlegm and what I thought might have been a bit of bile. I gasped, finally able to breathe again.

Then I looked up and found the Contagion looming over Erik, who had slipped away from me after whacking the blood out of my throat. His rangy shape looked small against the bloated bulk of the Contagion's pink body. The wing-shimmers behind his back were pressed hard against the stone wall. He was crushing himself back, straining away from the Contagion, which seemed to be getting bigger.

My head was pounding. I was flashing between hot and cold. I was shaky and could barely move. But somehow, I found the strength to raise my uninjured left arm and crack my whip deep into the Contagion's flesh.

It shrieked, reeling back, and turned to glare at me out of all three of its eyes. "Y'all won't never stop my ragin'…" it growled. "Ragin', ragin'…ragin'! Yeehaw… I'm a ragin'…contagion…"

As it spoke, though, it moved back towards the dais, almost like it was being pulled. Then I saw why: the jar was fixed and sitting upright.

"I've done it!" Phlegming exclaimed. "It's fixed! And not a moment too soon."

The Contagion was struggling against the pull of the jar. Erik touched my arm like he was going to help me up, then drew his hand back like he'd been burnt. "Tammy, you are burning up…"

I knew that. I could feel it.

"Now, sacred jar, seal away this evil beast!"

As the Contagion screamed, being pulled down again, I felt myself go even hotter all over. A shudder ran down my spine, shaking my whole body. Then, all of a sudden, it all vanished. The pressure in my chest eased, the heat died down to normal, and the pounding of my headache disappeared. The Contagion was sealed away.

Phlegming looked at us, his blue eyes bright behind his spectacles. "Did you see that?" he asked excitedly. "Did you see what I did? I sealed that confounded contagion away!" He laughed, a sound halfway between shocked disbelief and triumph. "Now Father-in-law will have to change his tune and show me some respect at last!"

I swear the man looked about ready to dance. He laughed again, ran a hand through his scruffy hair, and then shook his head like he was trying to clear it. "Well, we've done what we came to do," he said, still smiling. "Now I can finally explore the ruins at my leisure." He glanced over at Erik and me. "You can head off now. I'd rather not be distracted, if it's all the same to you. I'll have a look around and see what's what. Perhaps you could report back to Coffinwell and let them know how it all went."

Then he turned and hurried down the stairs.

Erik held out a hand to help me up. "Thanks," I said, taking it and then wrapping my whip back around my arm. "I mean…yeah. Thank you."

He nodded, expression returned to its usual inscrutable, neutral configuration as he looked me over. "Good," he said. "You are not too badly injured."

"No," I agreed, shaking my head. "Nothing a little bit of bed rest won't fix. You?"

"I am fine," Erik said. He turned abruptly and started for the door. "Come. Let us return."

Neither Erik nor Tammy spoke much on the return to Coffinwell. Erik was not sure whether that was good or bad. Certainly it left him time alone with his thoughts, something he had not been granted much of in the Protectorate. But at that moment, he was not entirely convinced that he wanted that.

Doubtless the benevolessence they would have earnt from the people of Coffinwell would return enough of his Celestrian powers to him that he and Stella could make the Starflight Express work. That was a good thing. No Celestrian should have to spend so much time as a mortal. It was degrading – particularly when he had to spend so much of his time with not only mortals but with such a one as Tammy. The others he could deal with. They were short-lived and blind, but they treated him with some measure of respect. Tammy, however, had been nothing but scornful.

And how, he wondered, _was she able to see Stella? How did she realise I was a Celestrian?_

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. The mortal girl was walking along the path with her hands shoved into her pockets and her pieces of armour tied on over her denim pants and shirt, nothing like her feminine fellow minstrel, Cristine. She had strength, certainly; Erik did not imagine many mortals would have been able to fight as she had while battling such a contagion from the inside as well. Whether the strength was physical or simply something in her stubbornness, he did not know.

_She must have followed behind when Stella and I went to the Starflight Express,_ he decided. But then his thoughts circled back around. _How could she have seen it? And Morag – that curse was powerful. I do not understand how she is able to do these things._

Tammy realised then that he was looking at her. "That really is annoying, you know," she said. "You keep staring at me. Either tell me why or look someplace else, would you?"

Erik looked the other way and slid his hands into his own pockets. Yes, the girl had no respect. It irritated him. Yet somehow, it was a bit refreshing. He had been training his whole life as a Guardian, the highest post a Celestrian could have. From early on, he had been treated with respect and had learnt to respect others in turn. Somehow, things were different in the Protectorate. It was strange – stupid, in all probability, for the mortals surely must offend one another a thousand times a day with their behaviour – but so much different from what Erik had been raised with that it was…interesting. He certainly never would have admitted it, particularly not to any of the other Celestrians, but these mortals were nearly fascinating. Perhaps there was something to Aquila's desire to continue watching over the Protectorate after Erik had taken over his post – something aside from his master's natural inclination to be strange. With luck, Aquila would be there when Erik returned to the Observatory…

_When I return to the Observatory._ It was something that simultaneously relaxed him and caused a strange knot inside his chest. The Observatory was his home, of course; it was where he, as a Celestrian, belonged. He certainly preferred the elegance and reserve of its stone walls to the loud emotion of the Protectorate. Yet after spending time as a mortal, he was not sure it would feel as familiar as it ought. He was not entirely sure he had been unchanged by being in the mortal world.

He glanced back at Tammy, who, aside from her strange abilities, was the very picture of a mortal: emotional, brusque, stubborn, fragile. He shuddered to think that he could be changed into something like that, and yet…he was not certain. The mortals had a way of surprising a being.

Cristine and Nick were waiting for them outside the city gates. "Tammy! Erik!" Cristine called, rushing towards them as soon as they came into view. "It worked, didn't it? Everyone seems to be better."

"Yeah," Tammy said. "Phlegming sealed the contagion back up." She smiled. "Come on. I think Catarrhina should be the first one to hear how her husband saved the whole town, don't you?"

Cristine smiled. "Definitely."

She danced ahead with Tammy. Nick fell into step next to Erik.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

Erik shrugged. "It went," he replied. "We discovered that the Contagion was a monster, so Tammy and I distracted it while Phlegming repaired the jar which had kept it sealed. I suppose the rest of the city has recovered as well as Tammy?"

Nick nodded. "Cristine and I decided to go in and try to help out," he said. "At one point, the girl I was taking care of went over in the highest fever I'd ever seen, but it broke very suddenly. I guess that's when the contagion was sealed up."

"Yes. The same occurred with Tammy."

When they reached Catarrhina's and Phlegming's house, they did not even knock. Tammy and Cristine hurried in first, followed by the boys.

"Miss Catarrhina!" Cristine said excitedly. "Miss Catarrhina, wake up. Dr Phlegming did it! He sealed away the contagion!"

"…Miss Catarrhina?" Tammy said, more quietly. She crossed the room, making nearly no sound in her soft-soled leather boots. "Oh, no…" She knelt down and laid several fingers across Catarrhina's wrist. Then she looked up at the rest of them. "She…she doesn't have a pulse."

At that moment, Phlegming's voice sounded from outside. "I'm home, Catarrhina!" he called. "I'll be off again soon, though. I'm just back to fetch a few papers to help me explore those ruins."

He entered and looked at all of them standing there. Erik saw his gaze flit over each of them, and finally to Tammy and his wife. Tammy bit her lip and her face went a strange shape.

"…Catarrhina?" Phlegming whispered. "You're very quiet."

Tammy moved out of the way as Phlegming sprinted over to his wife's bedside. "What's wrong, Catarrhina? Answer me!" He shook her gently. "You're not…?"

There was a quiet sob from Cristine as Phlegming fell onto his knees. "No!" he cried. "No! Not you! The contagion can't have taken you! It doesn't make sense. I sealed it away. Everyone's better now!" He stared down at her limp body in horror. Then he closed his eyes. His head fell. "I was too late, wasn't I?" he murmured. "Even as I sealed it away, you were already gone. Why?" He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Why didn't you tell me you were ill? If I'd known, I would have worked harder, faster. Perhaps I could have saved you…"

His shoulders shook. Tammy moved away from the bed and wrapped her arms around herself. Erik could see the tears in her eyes – hers, and Cristine's, and even in Nick's. He bit his tongue and tried not to break his own reserve. But it was difficult. The pain in the room was tangible.

Then Phlegming's sobs became audible. He cried, head down on the edge of the bed. When he looked up, his face was streaked with tears, and there were still more pouring down his cheeks.

"Oh, Catarrhina!"


	5. Chapter 5

THE NEXT DAY dawned bright and chilly. It was late March and the weather had been getting better, but cold had returned the night before alongside hours' worth of rain. It had pounded against my window and the roof of the inn, but all I'd been able to hear had been an impossible, hauntingly sad tune that had echoed through my head the whole night. I didn't know where it had come from – there hadn't been any real music. It was the ghost of a song, something only I could hear. The only way I could think of to describe it was that it sounded exactly like sadness.

The entire population of Coffinwell was gathered by the church for Catarrhina's funeral – minus one. Phlegming had locked himself in his laboratory after Catarrhina's body had been taken away, and no one had seen hide nor hair of him since. Cristine was standing with the main group; Nick, Erik, and I were slightly off to the side. None of us were native to Coffinwell, and we didn't want to intrude upon the citizens' grief.

That didn't mean we weren't sad. I was crying more than either of the boys, but Nick was teary and Erik was even more taciturn than usual. He'd not spoken a single word since Catarrhina's death.

"The people of Coffinwell have been delivered from great peril," the priest was saying. "But our relief is overshadowed by our sadness at the passing of our dear child, Catarrhina. Her loss weighs heavily upon us all." He paused, dried his eyes with his handkerchief, and continued. "Nonetheless," he said, "we should be grateful to her for teaching us the true meaning of forbearance. Those of us left behind must try to emulate her stoicism in overcoming our sadness at her death." His voice was low and tight, like he was restraining tears. "Now, let us pray that she will ascend untroubled to the heavens and rest in peace."

I bowed my head and tried to form a coherent thought. It didn't work very well. Out here, surrounded by mourning people, the mental song of sadness was beating against the inside of my skull. All I could do was cry.

"Oh, Catarrhina!" sobbed the mayor's wife. "Ohhhh…"

"Shh, dear," Laria murmured gently. "We must try to be strong." I imagined his jaw tensing. "What I'd like to know is where the devil Phlegming's got to. How he could neglect to turn up is beyond me."

_Oh, leave him alone!_ I thought fiercely. _The man just lost his wife. You can't begrudge him his private time to mourn._

Slowly, the crowd began to disperse back to their homes. Even Laria and his wife left, surrounded by a quiet group of people. Finally, the only people left by the graves were me, Cristine, Nick, Erik, and Stella.

The faerie made her presence felt right away. "Pah!" she spat. "I doubt there'll be any benevolessence to be had now the mood here's so flapping gloomy. So much for all the guts we busted trying to save the town. We haven't even had a word of thanks, let alone a reward. Well I don't think we should stand for this, or take it lying down! I say we go to Mayor Laria and make him thank us properly."

Suddenly, I just couldn't bear standing there any more, in the middle of the mourning town, surrounded by these emotions that weren't mine and stuck with no way to do anything about it. I turned and walked away – away from the others, away from the church, away from the city entirely. I couldn't think with all these people around and all their sad songs pouring out on me. And there was a ghost there, too. I couldn't see it in the cold, clear light of the morning, but it was there all the same. I could hear its song.

I went east from the city, to where the land slipped down into a short cliff to the agitated ocean. Once I was there, finally alone again, I slipped down and hugged my knees to my chest and sat there, staring out over the sea, letting my tears flow freely.

No one came after me. Even the monsters let me alone. I was grateful. I had spent my life learning how to be lonely when my worst moments came, and lonely was how I dealt with them. Even after four years of travelling with Cristine, I still found things easier to deal with when I was alone. I shared in people's emotions, but I wasn't sure how to share back. And besides, the more people who were around, the more emotions I felt. It was usually almost unnoticeable, but at times like this…it was overwhelming. I couldn't deal with it with other people. I _had _to be alone.

I sat there crying for hours before I finally ran out of tears. Then I just sat there, shivering in the chill, watching the waves crash against the cliff beneath me.

"Why would You do this?" I whispered. "Why would You take her away like that? She was so young. And Phlegming needed her. This whole town needed her. And it loved her. Why did she have to die?" I searched the skies, looking for a reply, but all I saw was chilly blue and a few scattered clouds.

I sighed and hunched down against the cold. I needed to go inside, I thought, but I couldn't make myself go back towards Coffinwell. Easier to deal with my own personal gloom out here than go back inside those walls and feel the sadness of every person there singing down at me as well.

And then I heard a voice from behind me. "May I sit down?"

I turned and looked, knowing as I did how unstable I must have looked – sitting alone at the edge of a cliff, for-once unspiked hair a mess from the wind, eyes red from crying.

Erik was standing there.

"Um, sure," I said. My voice was cracked.

He sat down next to me, folding his long body so that his knees were at his chest, too. He didn't say anything, didn't even look at me. All he did was look out over the ocean, like I had been doing. After a moment, I relaxed slightly and leaned forwards, my chin on my knees, and looked out again.

I was the one who ended up breaking the silence. "What are you going to do?" I asked. "About benevolessence. Stella's right – you're not likely to get any here with everyone so sad about Catarrhina. How are you going to get your powers back so you can go back to the Observatory?"

He snorted quietly, closing his eyes. "You are so eager to see me gone."

"Yes, most of the time." I sighed and closed my eyes. It felt nice.

"Most of the time?"

I shrugged, opening my eyes to glance at him. He was looking at me. "I dunno. Sometimes you're a bit more bearable. But you're bound to be missing the Observatory. It must be easier for you to deal with than this place."

"There are far fewer people," Erik said in a tone that sounded like agreement. "And they are certainly more reserved than mortals. Your people are far more boisterous than I am accustomed to."

"Mm." We were silent for a while longer. A slight sound nudged at the back of my mind, too quiet for me to really hear. I tried to block it out entirely.

"There is a ghost in the city," Erik said.

I nodded. "I noticed it earlier. Probably a victim of the contagion. I can't imagine it's a peaceful way to go."

"No," Erik agreed. "All the same, I think tonight I shall have to put some effort into helping it on. I have not seen Coffinwell's Guardian anywhere, so it seems the job falls to me." He glanced at me. "Do you know how to help spirits on?"

"Been doing it for years," I replied. Then I blinked. "What do you mean, you haven't seen Coffinwell's Guardian?"

He looked at me oddly. "I mean I have not seen her," he said. "Why? Have you?"

I shook my head slowly. "No," I said. "That's odd." It was. Coffinwell had been in the worst state possible when we'd arrived. If there had been any time for its Guardian to be around, it was then.

Then I sighed. "Fun night, then. I'm going to be emotional for a while, I suppose… Either that or I'll be feeling ill for a week."

"Well," Erik said. "I suppose there is nothing to do for it. Had there been, I have no doubt Aquila would have taught it to me."

"Who?"

"My master," Erik said, looking back out at the ocean. "He was rather strange – not one for conversation, or people, but among the best Guardians of whom I have ever heard. I doubt he would ever have taken an apprentice had Apus Major not urged him on."

I just nodded. I was a bit curious now, but there was no point in asking about anything. Soon enough, Erik would be back at the Observatory with his strange master and his Apus Major, and it wouldn't matter. I wondered what the rest of us would do. Cristine and I would continue travelling, no doubt. But as for Nick…I hadn't the slightest idea.

"Come," Erik said finally. "We ought to have lunch." He pushed himself off the ground and brushed grass of the back of his trousers. I hesitated.

"What is it?"

I wrinkled my nose and shrugged. "I'm not sure I can deal with the city right now," I said.

"Come," Erik said again. "You shall have to deal with it at some point. It is best not to put it off."

I hesitated a second longer, and then rose. "I guess," I said. And we returned to Coffinwell in silence.

We had lunch and then spent the rest of the day doing…well, whatever we felt up to doing. The other three stopped by the armour and weapons shop and came back with new equipment – a war fan for Cristine, a staff of sentencing for Nick, a pair of razor claws for Erik. I didn't want to go. My old leather whip had been serving me for years, and it hadn't let me down yet. It would be good for a while longer.

All I really felt up to that afternoon was spiking my hair back up and sitting by the window. Since everyone had dispersed, it was muted, but back in the town I could hear the sad song. And from somewhere, there were jarring chords of anger and pain. I tried to block it out, but I had no idea how. So I was left there with the song inspiring sadness that wasn't mine.

Later on, I made myself leave my room. There were bookshelves near the common room; perhaps I would get a book to read until evening, when Cristine had told me we were going to meet with Laria. But as I started to round the corner into the common room, I heard Nick's voice: "…Tammy do that often?"

He was sitting at one of the tables, talking with Cristine. I shrank back, not wanting to go in if they were talking about me but not wanting to leave, either.

Cristine shrugged. "Yes," she said. "I'm not really sure why. I've known her for four years – she's my best friend – but…she seems to prefer being on her own. And besides, she's kind of a private person. Most of the time I've known her, it's been just the two of us, and I still don't know where she's from or even her last name. I haven't asked, and she hasn't told." She shrugged again. "And she won't, until she's ready. It's just the way she is."

Nick nodded slowly. "It just seems a bit odd," he admitted. "I know plenty of people who tend to prefer being alone, but Tammy doesn't seem like the type. She's…she's…"

"Yeah," Cristine said. "I think I know what you mean. She understands people really well; she's good at dealing with them, even if she doesn't suffer fools lightly." She laughed a little. "But…I don't know. If she wanted me to know, I'm sure she'd have told me already.

I stood still for a moment longer, but they didn't say anything else. I swallowed, and then turned and fled back down the hall to my bedroom.

After supper that evening, we set out for Laria's mansion. Once again, we found him in his library.

"Oh, it's you," he said, seeing us. "What are you doing here at this hour?" Then he blinked. "Oh, of course, your reward for accompanying young Phlegming. It completely slipped my mind." He rummaged around under his desk for a moment, and came up with a feathered headband. "I hope this hairband will suffice." He handed it to Erik, and then looked back down at the manuscripts strewn across his desk. I was suddenly reminded of how Phlegming's lab looked.

We left, and I sighed with relief as we moved further away. It wasn't much of a difference – nothing would be unless I got far enough away – but it was better than being cooped up in the room with Laria. I could at least hear myself think over the song still making its mournful way through my head.

"What a flapping let-down!" Stella complained. "Is that it? That's all we get after bending over backwards, forwards, and sideways for these people? If only that Catarrhina hadn't gone and kicked a bucket, everyone would be happy and there'd be benevolessence aplenty. Gah… There's got to be some way of sorting out this mess…"

I sighed. Then I blinked in surprise as I found the pink headband being shoved into my hands.

"You take this," Erik said. "I am not a minstrel. I will never have any cause to wear it."

I wrinkled my nose at the pastel pink and the multi-coloured feather. Then I held it out to Cristine. "You know my taste in clothes," I said. "This thing is too impractical for me. It'd look great on you, though. The green'll match your eyes."

"Erm, thanks," Cristine replied. She took the headband and examined it. I hadn't been lying; I could see her wearing it. But she didn't put it on just then. I supposed there wasn't much point.

"I'm going back to the inn," Nick said. "Maybe look over some maps, think about what to do next."

"I'll go, too," Cristine said. "Tammy? Erik?"

Remembering the ghost I'd heard at the funeral that morning, I shook my head. "Go on without me," I told them. "I'll be back in a bit."

Cristine and Nick headed back to the inn, and I glanced at Erik. "What, do you not trust me to do this on my own?"

He shrugged. "I have no reason to go back to the inn," he said. "With luck, I will not need to accompany you to the next place you choose. I should like to see how it is that you assist spirits. Perhaps it is different from what Celestrians do."

"Okay," I said doubtfully. "Shall we head over to the graveyard, then?"

There was a slender figure standing by the graves, translucent and glowing softly. As we got closer, I realised I recognised it. My eyes went wide. "Catarrhina!"

Erik let out a quiet noise of surprise, and we hurried over to the graveyard.

"Oops!" Catarrhina was saying, looking herself over. "I appear to be dead."

"Yeah," I said. "That tends to be the only reason people go all transparent."

Catarrhina jumped and turned to see Erik and me standing under the arch leading to the church and the graves. "Wait a minute!" she exclaimed. "You can see me? That's amazing! I sensed you were different, Erik, but I never would have guessed you were one of them."

She looked at me for a second, seeming to be testing whether or not I could really see her too. When I followed her with my gaze, she beamed.

"What a stroke of luck!" she cheered. "That means you'll probably be able to help me out. You see, I need to try and jolly Phlegmy up a bit. He's in a terrible way at the moment, and I don't see him getting better by himself. You can help, can't you?"

"That is the whole reason we came, Miss Catarrhina," Erik said, dipping his head.

"Thank you, thank you!" Catarrhina said, and I swear that if she had been corporeal, she would have hugged us both. "I suppose the first thing is to get him to come out of his laboratory. I'm sure I'll be able to figure out a way of doing that, so you just head down there and we'll take it from there."

When Erik and I got there, I tried the knob, knowing as I did so that it wasn't going to work.

I was proved right. The knob wouldn't turn.

"You won't have any luck like that, Tammy," said Catarrhina's voice from behind me. I jumped and turned to see that she'd materialised a little ways down the alley. She smiled and joined us.

"Phlegmy will only come out if you use our secret knock," she told us, and proceeded to describe it. I rapped it out on the door quickly, before I forgot a step.

"…Catarrhina?" came Phlegming's voice from inside. It sounded hoarse. "Catarrhina, is that you?"

Then Erik and I both jumped back as the door was flung open, banging against the wall, to reveal a very dishevelled-looking Phlegming. He looked around, and then his gaze settled on Erik and me.

"Was that…? Which one of you knocked like that?" He glared at us from behind his spectacles, which were sitting lopsided on his nose.

"Me, sir," I said. But before I could say anything else, he started in on me.

"Of all the tasteless jokes, mimicking Catarrhina's special knock like that!" he yelled. I shrank back. "Don't you dare ever do that again!"

He turned to storm back inside, but was interrupted by a voice from above us. "Oi, Phlegmin'!" it called.

Everyone turned to glance up and saw one of the men of the city leaning over the railing. "Glad I caught ya. I've got a message for ya, as it 'appens. Thanks for gettin' rid of that 'orrible disease. Everyone in Coffinwell says thanks, an' all. We owe ya big time! Oh yeah, an' we're all 'opin you'll be back to normal soon. Everyone's worried sick about ya."

He left, waving, and Phlegming blinked in surprise. "What in the name of –?"

Taking advantage of Phlegming's momentary distraction, Catarrhina got Erik's and my attention and said, "I'd like you to pass on a final message to Phlegmy for me. Can you tell him that I want him to meet with the people he saved by sealing away the contagion?"

"Dr Phlegming," I said quickly, before he could go back into his lab. We'd never get him back out if he went in again. "Please, listen to me. We're not pulling a joke, I swear. It's Catarrhina – she wants – she'd want you to meet with the people you saved by sealing away the contagion." I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "Please. You've no idea how grateful everyone is."

He hesitated.

"Sir," Erik said. "We spoke to her. It is what she wants you to do."

"Spoke to her…" Phlegming murmured. He swallowed. "Catarrhina said that? But I wouldn't even know where to start. I don't even know who was ill. All I was worried about was trying to get the better of Father-in-law…" He hesitated, glancing down, and then looked back up at us. "I'd like you to take me to see the people who were ill," he said. "I know the moment has somewhat passed, but I'd like to know who suffered from the disease and how they felt. Then perhaps I'll be able to understand what it was like for my Catarrhina."

"Please agree to what he asks," Catarrhina said. "I think this is just what he needs."

Erik nodded. "Of course," he said. "Erm…" He glanced at me. "Tammy, do you know who else was ill?"

I bit my lip. "Um, no," I said. "We weren't here long enough, and I was a little too worried about sealing it up to think about who else was sick…"

"I know," Catarrhina said. "I caught the contagion tending to the ill. Just follow me."

She headed off, and Erik and I hurried after her. Phlegming followed behind.

As Phlegming talked with the near-victims of the contagion, I was surprised by what I "heard" in the strange emotion-music. It wasn't the overwhelming sadness I'd been feeling since Catarrhina's death. Sure, it was a little melancholy, but there was so much gratitude in it that it sounded like a different song entirely. And I recognised it. This was the same thing I had sensed in Stornway before all the benevolessence had appeared. I hadn't heard the song then; it wasn't as concentrated as when I was in the room with someone. But I could hear it now. After a day of the sad song echoing through my head, the gratitude was a huge relief.

We only visited four or five people, but it took hours. Everyone was so eager to talk to Phlegming – to thank him, to offer him condolences, to ask him how he'd sealed the contagion away, to bring out food and eat with him, even just to make small talk. For someone as adverse to company as Phlegming, he was handling it remarkably well. I watched him as he spoke with the families of the people he'd saved and saw how animated his face became. Even late into the night, as my eyelids started to droop and Erik stopped bothering to hide his yawns, Phlegming was still going strong.

But as we left the inn after a short, very strange visit with a weird lady dressed up like a bunny, Phlegming sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I think I've seen enough now," he said. "Let's go back to my laboratory."

The lab was a mess. Books were scattered on the floor like they'd been thrown round the room. There were water stains on pages lying open on the desk. The candles were burnt down almost to nothing, dangerously close to the papers, and there was a distinct smell of ale, though I couldn't see any sign of the stuff.

"I must thank you both," Phlegming said, turning to Erik and me. "You've enabled me to see what it was Catarrhina wanted me to understand. Everything I've done has always been for myself, and I haven't given much thought to the people around me. That's why I didn't notice Catarrhina was ill. Unforgiveable, I know…" He shoved his spectacles up and rubbed at his eyes quickly.

"Walking around town today," he continued, "I realised for the first time how many people there are around me. From now on, I'm going to try to be more of a part of the community." He looked away, smiling a little. "And I must admit that it was rather nice to be the object of so much gratitude…"

Then he sat down at the desk and set to work putting it back into some form of order. I watched for a second, a strange feeling of warmth blooming in my stomach and making me smile. Then I touched Erik's arm. "Let's go," I whispered.

As we turned to leave, Catarrhina materialised by the door. Her figure seemed brighter somehow, a little more glow and a little less substance. Chords stirred in the back of my mind.

"Thank you so much for helping Phlegmy come to his senses," Catarrhina said. "You've allowed me to fulfil my dream, even though I'm no longer alive." She looked at Phlegming, and I could hear the music getting louder. It was a sweet melody, gentle and all-enveloping, and it stirred a strange longing inside of me.

"You see, it's always been my dream for the people of Coffinwell to realise how wonderful Phlegmy is. And for him to grow to love the place. That's exactly what I've always wanted."

Her shape began to glow brighter. She looked down at herself, surprised. "Aah, it looks like I've run out of time." Her feet left the ground. "It's time to say goodbye," she murmured. "I wish you well…" Her eyes fell on Phlegming, and as her spirit's glow increased to the point where I could hardly stand to look at the light, the song reached a soaring crescendo. It was kind, and patient, and even as gentle as it was, it was incredibly powerful. I felt my eyes start to tear up. Whatever emotion this song was making, it was beautiful, something that needed to be shared. I'd never felt it before.

And then the glow disappeared, leaving behind only an echo of the beautiful song and the strange new longing inside my soul.

By the time I stumbled into bed that night, Cristine was already fast asleep on the other side of the room. When I woke up the next morning, she was gone. Sunlight was streaming in through the windows. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and got out of bed and ready for the day.

I found the others sitting in the common room. Nick and Cristine were looking over a map; Erik was leaning back in his chair, arms folded, watching the city outside the window. Stella was bobbing in the air by his shoulder.

"Morning, Tammy," Cristine said.

"Hi," I said, pulling up a chair and joining them at the table. "Are we making plans?"

Nick nodded. "I've been thinking we could head over to Newid Isle," he said. "Alltrades Abbey is there, and a little fishing village called Porth Llaffan. It could be an interesting place to visit."

"Mm." I reached for the solitary roll lying on a plate in the centre of the table. "Does anyone else want this?"

Cristine shook her head. "We were saving it."

"Thanks," I said, and started eating. As I did, I glanced at Erik. He looked frustrated, and his brow was furrowed as he gazed out the window, like he was willing something to happen. "What's got your panties in a wad?"

He looked at me, and even though we were about even from across the table, it felt like he was looking down his nose at me. "That was rude."

I raised my eyebrows. "You're not a morning person, are you?" Without waiting for an answer, I got up and moved so I could look out the window. Glowing crystals of benevolessence were dotting the streets of Coffinwell. Remembering what Stella had said outside of Stornway Castle, I thought I knew why he looked so frustrated. Quietly, I asked, "You can't see it, can you?"

He snorted. "I ought to have known," he muttered. "Naturally. Everyone can see it but me."

I rolled my eyes and went back to my seat. "Definitely not a morning person," I decided aloud. "So what're we all going to do?"

Erik rose sharply, almost hitting Stella's little pink light with his shoulder. "I have something I must take care of," he said. "I shall take some time. Do not wait up for me. I will find you at a later time if I must."

Then he left the inn.

Nick and Cristine watched him go, still with surprise. "What in the…?"

"What a strange guy," Nick said, shaking his head. "Do you think we ought to wait?"

I shook my head. "No," I said. "He… It's like he said, he might take a while." I shrugged. "You probably just ought to keep going."

"'You'?" Cristine asked. "Tammy, you can't tell me you're going to follow him again! For two people who get along so poorly, you certainly do spend a lot of time together."

"Who said I was following him?" I demanded. "Just go, you two. Honestly. You'd think I can't take care of myself!"

And then I followed Erik's example and walked out.

Cristine sighed as she watched Tammy stride out of the inn. "Not again," she murmured.

"Shouldn't we go after them?" Nick asked. He was halfway out of his seat.

"No," Cristine said, shaking her head. "It…it'll be all right. Tammy can take care of herself. And Erik…well, as long as he doesn't irritate her again, he'll be fine."

Nick sank back into the chair. "How can you take this so calmly?" he asked. "If my best friend kept disappearing, I'd be more than a little worried. Why won't you ever ask her what's going on?"

"Because she's not ready to tell me," Cristine replied. She sighed and looked down. "I wish she'd realise that she can share things, but…whatever the reason is for her being so alone, it's something I think she's been dealing with since long before I met her."

She must have looked sadder than she had realised, because Nick reached out to touch her arm reassuringly. She blinked and looked up to find him looking at her.

"We could go after them, if you like," he said. "I don't know how we'll get wherever we're going next, anyway. There's nothing to lose by following them."

With effort, Cristine shook her head. "No," she said. "Erik's not going to like it if we intrude on his privacy. Tammy will make him grumpy enough; it'll be safest to leave well enough alone." She smiled. "Thank you, though."

Nick nodded. "Here," he said, gesturing at the map. "Where do you think we ought to head next?"

Erik didn't notice me as I followed him down the path back towards the Starflight Express.

Stella had been right, I decided, looking at the wing-shimmers which I'd grown so used to: the benevolessence was giving Erik his powers back. His wings and halo were clearly defined now, even though they had a strange, ethereal look to them. Neither Erik nor Stella seemed able to see them, though. It was odd.

I felt bad about leaving Cristine and Nick behind in the inn, but I hadn't been able to do anything else. I couldn't exactly tell them what Erik was, after all. It was stupid to be following him, but for some reason I felt like I needed to. It felt like there was a magnet drawing me towards everything that was happening around him. Much as the Celestrian irritated me sometimes, I couldn't make myself stay away.

Finally, I got tired of trailing behind. As we entered the pass between Stornway and Angel Falls, I got up behind Erik and said, "You know, it's really rather rude to leave without a proper goodbye."

He nearly jumped out of his skin and whirled around to face me. "Tammy!" he said. "You...you irritating little mortal! Why do you feel the need to follow me?"

"It's the only way to find out a bloody thing about you," I said. I put my hands in my pockets. "No, wait. That sounded odd."

He put a hand to his face and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Return to Coffinwell," he told me. His voice was a little muffled. "You should know that this does not concern you."

"Actually," I said, "I think it does. And anyway, you're not going to get rid of me. I'm coming whether you want me to or not." I started walking. "Are you coming?" I called over my shoulder. "I can't get the Starflight Express started without a Celestrian."

He hurried after me. "Tammy, I am not joking!" he said. "Go back to Coffinwell. I do not intend to return to the Protectorate after I reach the Observatory. And you are not going to accompany me!"

"Please, Erik," I said, pausing to look back at him. "I can't explain why. I just… I feel like I have to go."

He looked at me for a moment, and I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. But then he started walking again, and passed me. "No," he said. "I am sorry. But you cannot accompany me to the Observatory."

"Why not?" I asked, aware that I sounded like a whining toddler. "Honestly, Erik! I don't see why you have such an objection to this."

"Because mortals do not go to the Observatory," Erik snapped without turning around.

I was about to argue, but then a soft glow from down the path caught my eye. "Hm?" I murmured. Then I broke into a jog and headed towards the light.

The ghost of a slim young woman shrouded in a dark cloak was standing in the clearing by the Starflight. I couldn't see much of her face beneath the hood, but as I got closer to her, music stirred in the back of my mind. I'd thought the song I'd heard in Coffinwell had been sad, but this…this was impossible. It was old, heavy with loneliness and desperation and despair. The end of my nose started to sting, my throat went tight, and I felt tears come to my eyes.

"Blimey, she looks like she could do with cheering up," Stella said from behind me. "Hey, Erik, she must be a ghost. Why don't you ask her what's wrong? She looks like she could use an ear to cry into."

The girl took no notice of any of us. She glanced around. When she spoke, it sounded like she was beyond tears. Her voice was weary.

"He's not here…"

"What?" squawked Stella.

The girl shook her head sadly. "He's not here either…"

As she walked away, her form faded. The song in my head disappeared with her, but I could still hear the remnants. It was stuck in my head.

"Charming!" Stella said. "Talk about cold shoulders! Some people are so flapping rude!" She snorted, and then said, "Huh, never mind. We've got better things to be doing. All aboard the Starflight Express!"

I made myself move and climbed the steps onto the train. Erik looked at me flatly. "For the final time," he said, "you are not going."

"Erik," I said. "I'm not a stray dog you're bringing into the house. I can behave. It's not like I'm going to pee on anything!"

"I do not trust you to behave around my people," Erik said. "I put up with it because I have had to, but the rest of my people are not so forgiving of rudeness. It is your tongue I am concerned about, not your bladder control."

I didn't respond, just slid the door open and stepped inside the train.

"Fine," Erik snapped. "But if you are told to leave, I will tell Stella to bring you back down immediately."

Stella fluttered in past me and called out to Erik, who was moving slowly. "Come on, get a wiggle on! The old rustbucket isn't going anywhere without you to help it get its feet off the ground!"

The second Erik stepped on board, the train jolted. A ripple of light ran across the walls from the entrance all the way up to the control panel at the front, and it started to rumble.

"Woohoo!" cheered Stella. "Look at her! I'd say she's finally decided you're a Celestrian after all, wouldn't you, Erik? This is it! Now all I have to do is… Er…fly us home…"

An expression of doubt crossed her face. Erik and I both looked at her sharply.

"Stella," Erik said, "Tell me you know what to do."

She nodded a little frantically. "It's no problem for the dab-handed driver of the Starflight Express, of course!" she said. "I'll just, er…programulate the…co-ordinators into the control panel over there and we'll be up, up and away before you can wink!"

She fluttered over to the control panel and looked over the buttons nervously.

"We're going to die," I muttered.

"If you recall," Erik replied, "I did not ask you to come. In fact, I instructed you to remain behind."

I gave him a look. "And you're not the slightest bit panicked about this?"

He looked forwards and didn't answer.

"…Um, aye, aye, captain!" Stella was saying. "Full steam ahead! No time for second thoughts now! Here we go, then…"

A sudden thought crossed my mind, and I sprinted to shut the train door.

"Iiiiit's TAKE-OFF TIME!"

She brought her hand down and slammed a button on the control panel. The Starflight rumbled and rose shakily into the air. She continued poking at buttons, muttering to herself.

"Let's see… Just a little tap here and then…let's try that on there, and then…"

She banged twice on the panel, and the Starflight started moving forwards. Stella grinned. "Haha!" she laughed. "I did it! I did it!"

And then, seeing that I had covered my face in a combination of exasperation and terror, she coughed. "Ahem, I mean, obviously. I did it. After all, I'm the cucumber-cool captain of the Starflight Express!" She slapped Erik on the chest. He shot her one of his signature flat looks.

She cleared her throat. "Right then!" she said. "Observatory, here we come!"

"Oh, no…" I moaned, seeing her go for the control panel again.

"Woohooooo!"

"We're gonna die!"

Stella slapped a final button, and the Starflight launched into the air.

Erik and I were slammed against the back wall by the sudden increase in gravity. I almost blacked out, and it felt like I'd left my stomach on the ground. I screamed, and I didn't feel a bit embarrassed about it. I did later, but not then.

It probably didn't take as long as it felt like it did for us to finally level out. Shakily, I pulled myself to my feet and over to a window.

We were making a slow loop around a huge stone building with a big tree at the top. It would have been beautiful, I decided, except that it looked like it was falling to pieces. Chunks of stone were missing, leaving gaping holes in a couple places, and all the plant life except the tree seemed to be dead. It looked like the ruin of a place, not somewhere people lived.

Erik joined me by the window, and his eyes went wide in horror. "No," he breathed. "This is impossible. How could this have befallen the Observatory? Surely that dark light could not have done such damage…"

_Dark light…? _Was he talking about what I thought he was? The lights I had seen far off on the night of the earthquake… Were they to blame for all this?

"Stella," Erik said sharply, looking towards the faerie. "Apus Major is near Yggdrasil; take us there, please."

I looked back out the window. Four figures were standing by the tree: one woman and three men, one of whom had a ring of white hair around his head and a long white beard. They all had silver haloes and white wings. Their wings were much larger than Erik's phantom pair.

We circled around the Observatory once and then came to a surprisingly gentle stop on the level directly below the tree. I watched as the four Celestrians noticed the Starflight and hurriedly glided down the stairs towards it.

Faintly, I could hear one of them – the old one, I assumed – talking to the others. I couldn't quite make out the words, though.

Erik slid open the door on the side of the compartment.  
"Apus Major!" cried one of the other Celestrians. "Someone is emerging from within!"

"Hm?" the old man – Apus Major – said, turning. Erik stepped out onto the Observatory.

"B-by the stars!" stuttered Apus Major. "Erik? Is it truly you? What are you doing aboard the…"

I had moved over to the door so I could watch the proceedings. Apus Major had broken off. He and the others were staring at Erik in horror.

"What is this?" he whispered. "Your wings…your halo…what horrors have you suffered, child?"

In his typical clipped fashion, Erik went through the story about what had happened to him. It was the beginning that got my attention. He talked about Yggdrasil, some things called fyggs, and about falling through the air to land, wingless and haloless, in Angel falls. He talked briefly about rescuing Patty from the Hexagon and finding the Inny for Erinn, and then about meeting Stella and going to Stornway, Zere, and finally Coffinwell before returning to the Observatory.

When he finished, the other Celestrians were silent for a moment. Finally, Apus Major murmured, "But what of the other Celestrians who are gone to the realm beneath? Why are you alone returned to us?"

"Others?" Erik asked sharply. "Which others?"

They were about to answer, but then one of the other men spotted me. "What is this, Erik?" he asked. "Who is this whom you have brought with you?"

Erik stiffened. I tried to shrink back into the Starflight, but it was too late. They'd all already seen me.

"A mortal!" exclaimed the girl. "Erik, what possessed you to bring a mortal with you here, to the home of the Celestrians? This is not a place which they are to receive the honour of seeing."

"She would not be left behind," Erik said. I couldn't tell if he was grumbling about me or defending me. "Orphea, she is able to see us. Ghosts and faeries are visible to her, as well. I did not think it would cause any harm to allow her to accompany me, particularly as she was like as not to attack me if I did not. Stella will take her home – will you not, Stella?"

Stella glanced at me, and then at Erik. "Uh…

Erik sighed and rubbed at his temples like he was getting a headache. "Almighty protect my sanity from mortal girls and faeries," he muttered. Then he looked up at Apus Major. "I think it would cause no harm for her to remain here until Stella is ready to depart," he said.

Apus Major blinked once, nonplussed by the situation, and then nodded slowly. "Very well," he said. "All of you, to the Great Hall. Let Erik tell us in greater detail of the events unfolding in the Protectorate."

I took that as an invitation to leave the Starflight. As soon as the soles of my boots came into contact with the stone, a hum travelled up through my bones and blood, thrumming through me and finally coalescing into sound when it reached my brain. I froze, not able to move from the strength of the emotion behind the song. It was all so powerful – kindness, protectiveness, caring, and an unbelievable, somehow gentle ferocity for the things to be protected.

_And I was one of those things_.

_I didn't know where I was when I opened my eyes. I was disoriented. _

_ That was strange. I was used to waking up someplace different every time. _

_ Or was I? What kind of life did I lead where I never rested my head in the same place twice? Did I enjoy it? _

_ I sat up, blinking, and looked around. I was sitting on the ground in a wood. Since there was no undergrowth and the trees weren't crowded in together, I could see a long way, but I couldn't see an end to them. There was a slight whisper in the back of my mind, soft, steady music like waves breaking on the shore. It was warm here, but not uncomfortably so. The wood was full of a soft green light, sunshine filtered down through the leaves. There was no chance of my fair skin being burnt here. _

_ As I looked around, I realised that I was alone among the trees. For some reason, the thought made me incredibly sad. That wasn't right. I was used to being lonely, wasn't I? That was what I remembered. It shouldn't make me sad. _

_ Who was I, then, that I wandered alone? I couldn't remember. But I thought that maybe I hadn't been entirely alone. I remembered faces. Some of them were constants. _

_ But where had I wandered? It felt to me like I'd been in this wood my whole life, however long that had been. I didn't even know how long I'd been awake. It could have been the span of a blink or it could have been a thousand years. Time meant nothing here. _

_ I tried to remember. Flashes of faces came to mind, leftover snatches of memories and songs. The songs were the strongest things I could remember. There were emotions in them. _

_ As I thought, I began to wander. The trees stood still as I walked past, seeming to welcome me. The quiet noise in my mind was another song, I thought. It came from the trees. Did they have emotions too, then?_

**Yes.**

_ I started, looking around for the source. Who had agreed with me? There was no one here but the trees. _

**It is I who spoke.**

_ Now my searching grew more frantic. Somehow, that voice was familiar, like a melody from a past life. I needed to find where it was coming from. _

**I am here.**

Where is here?_ I thought. _I can't see anyone. There are only trees.

**Exactly.**

_That made no sense. I paused in my search, looking around. _

**We are the first children of She whom you saw when you reached the Observatory. We are the Faerie. The first children of Yggdrasil.**

_Now it was "we" instead of "I". I was still absolutely clueless. Even the calming melody of the forest wasn't helping me keep my temper. _

What am I doing here? What _is_ here? Who are you really?

**I have told you already who I am. Who we are. And who you are, in part.**

Huh? _This was annoying. Why wouldn't she answer my questions properly?_

**I am trying to answer your questions. Keep your temper, child of the wilderness.**

Who are you, specifically?_ I asked. _All "faerie" tells me is that you look like Stella. And you're as annoying as her, too.

_A ripple of laughter went through the music in my head. _**We are not the faerie you know, child,**_ she said. _**We are the ancients – the Faerie, those which mortals know as the Fae. The Good Folk. **

_A chill went down my spine. I'd heard stories about the Fae. When, I didn't know; but I'd heard them. But all the stories said that they had died out centuries ago. _

**Stories can be wrong. We are not dead yet, though we are near to it. **_Her voice was sad. _**Ask what you will, child, and I will do my best to answer. But I cannot answer all, and those questions that I may answer you may not understand. **

_I looked around the wood. A sense of awe descended over me as I realised that the trees were the spirits of the Faerie. They looked like Yggdrasil, I decided, and then wondered how I knew that. I wasn't sure what Yggdrasil was. _

_ Finally, the only thing I could ask was, _Why am I here?

**You are here to learn, Tamara, **_she said__. _

_ I blinked. Tamara. Tammy. That was my name. I remembered now. _

What am I supposed to learn?

**To forget your loneliness. **

_That didn't really make sense. _How can I learn to forget something?_ I asked. _And who said I was lonely? I'm with you, aren't I? I can't be lonely if I'm with someone.

_Sadness tinged the edge of the melody as she said, _**You have always been lonely, even now when you do not need to be. Remember these words, my child. You must forget your loneliness. It served you in the past, but now it will cause you nothing but heartache. You were not made to be alone, Tamara. Your destiny lies with others.**

_And then my vision started to disappear. _

Wait!_ I called. _I need to ask more!

**You know enough for now. It is time for you to awake, child of the wilderness. **

Will I return?_ I asked. I needed to know. _

**Do not fear. You will find yourself here when you truly find need of me. Goodbye and go well, my child.**

_The voice was gone then, but I could hear her song still echoing through my mind. It left me feeling warm inside, and I knew that if it was up to her, I would always be protected. _

Goodbye…

When I woke up, I was lying on a bed. The sheets were pulled up to my chin and I was curled into as much of a ball as my bony body would allow. It was the position I always found myself in when I woke.

I uncurled and sat up, looking around. The bed was in a small stone room. I was still in the Observatory.

Now I remembered everything – the faces, the songs, everything else. I wondered why I'd forgotten all of it in my dream.

_My dream_. I leant back against the headboard, looking up, and called it back to mind. It wasn't like other dreams I'd had – I could remember every detail, down to the texture of the Faerie's voice and each chord of the song. If I'd had a lyre, I would have been able to play it.

Then the door opened and Erik walked in. "Tammy!" he said in surprise when he saw me sitting up. "You have woken."

"Yeah," I said. "What happened?"

He shrugged. "I am not certain," he said. "When you disembarked from the Starflight, you collapsed. You have been asleep for nearly twelve hours."

I blinked. The dream hadn't felt that long, but then time didn't seem to have any meaning in the forest of Faerie spirits.

"So what have you been doing for the past half a day?" I asked. "It doesn't look like anyone managed to work a miracle cure on your wings and halo. They still look just as transparent as always."

"What?"

I dropped my head into my hand. "Right, you can't see them," I said. "Nor can Stella or the others, I suppose."

"I still have wings?" If he hadn't been a Celestrian, I was willing to bet he would be straining around in a circle, trying to peer onto his back to see them for himself. As it was, he looked over his shoulder.

"Only a little," I said. "They've been getting a little more solid with the benevolessence, but they still look pretty ghostly."

"Hm." He ran a hand through his bushy hair, and then shook his head sharply. "In any case, that is not why I came in here. If you believe you are sufficiently recovered, we must make haste back to the Protectorate."

I raised my eyebrows. "'We'?" I asked. "I thought you were staying here."

"I had a dream," he said.

"What a coincidence," I muttered. "Carry on, sorry."

Erik's dream was definitely different from mine. He talked about two voices, a man's and a young woman's. The man had been intent upon destroying the mortals, and the young woman had stopped him by changing herself into something. Erik said he hadn't seen what she'd changed to.

Then he said he'd heard the young woman's voice again, telling him to return to the Protectorate and recover some kind of fruit he called fyggs.

"They are Yggdrasil's sacred fruit," he explained. "The reason Celestrians gather benevolessence is to offer it to the Tree and cause the fyggs to bloom, for according to our legends, the Celestrians were to join the Almighty in His realm when fyggbloom occurred. However, the night they bloomed was the night of the earthquake, and they were flung to earth along with me."

I blinked. _That's what the golden comets were!_

"So we must go to Alltrades Abbey," Erik continued. "There is a tree there to guide us."

"Alltrades," I said. "I think that's where Cristine and Nick were going to go." I bit my lip. "I wonder if they went on without us…"

Erik shrugged. "We shall find out," he said. He extended a hand to help me up. "Come. Let us return to the Protectorate."


	6. Chapter 6

Hirundine: Thank you so much for your review! You have no idea how happy it made me. And don't worry, all will be revealed!

This surprised me, though - I thought I'd fleshed out Cristine a little more than Nick. Maybe it was just all in my head ^_^

* * *

THE RIDE BACK down to the Protectorate was even scarier than the ride up. Stella very nearly crashed the Starflight in the crown of a bright blue tree near Alltrades Abbey. I was still shaking when we reached the top of the Abbey's huge flight of stairs.

Stella fluttered off to search for someone – "old fatguts", as she'd said on the Starflight. I hadn't the slightest idea how she expected to find him, but as long as it got the faerie off our backs, I was happy.

The inside of the abbey was open and airy, with the sound of running water filling the air. But I only had a moment to notice that, because hardly a second after I stepped in, I was tackled by a slim brunette figure in a bright dress.

"Tammy!" Cristine cried. "Oh, thank the Almighty you're back! I knew you would be all right, but I couldn't help worrying…"

I didn't bother trying to detach myself. I just looked at her and grinned. "You ought to know there's no point in that," I said. "I wouldn't let anything get me. Besides, what would it say about our friendship if I let myself be eaten by a monster?"

She smiled. "Not much."

Nick nodded to me politely. Before Cristine let go of me and stepped back, she murmured, "Tammy, is it all right if I talk to you when you have a moment?"

"Um, sure," I replied. "What about?"

She shook her head very slightly.

I blinked.

"Is there anything of interest occurring here?" Erik asked.

Cristine nodded, turning her attention to him. "Abbot Jack's gone."

"Gone?" I asked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he's not at the abbey," Cristine said. "He was gone before we got here yesterday afternoon. Apparently, he's been away for several days now, and no one knows where he is. The whole abbey's in an uproar."

I looked around. If this is an uproar, I thought, _it's the quietest one I've ever seen._ But as I watched, I realised that Cristine's words had a grain of truth in them. People were scurrying round the place like they were on some urgent business. All of the abbey's clergy looked worried, much as they seemed to be trying to hide it. Anyway, even if they hadn't shown it, I could hear it a bit. I seemed to be getting more perceptive. I wasn't entirely sure that was a good thing.

"Hm," I said. "D'you reckon there's anything we can do to help?"

"Well, not right now," Cristine said, smiling. "It's nearly eight thirty. It'll be dark soon. But I'm sure we could speak to the head priest. He's the one who took charge after Abbot Jack vanished."

So that was what we did. The head priest, a black-haired man dressed in a red robe, was standing at the back of the abbey, looking very concerned. Behind him was a Guardian statue and a rectangular pool.

"Welcome to Alltrades Abbey," he said when he noticed here. "Are you here to change your vocation?"

Erik shook his head. "We wondered if there was anything we could do to assist in the search for Abbot Jack," he said, "and also to ask if you have seen a golden fruit."

Cristine and Nick looked at him in surprise, but I just tried to resist the urge to roll my eyes. He was good at working what he wanted into what everyone else did.

The priest scratched at his beard. "Well, I don't know about the abbot," he said, "but as it happens, he was given a fruit that might match that description by someone who came for a change of vocation. I think the person in question is still here in the Abbey somewhere. Ask around, and perhaps you'll find something out."

We thanked him and left, but this time I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Well, at least we found something out," I said. "Erik, seriously?"

"What?" he asked peevishly. "We must find the fyggs; I see no harm in doing so at the same time as we help others."

I shook my head wordlessly as we headed down the stairs towards the abbey's inn. It was late enough that there wouldn't be much point in asking about the abbot – or the fygg – that night. We'd have to start in the morning.

Cristine and Nick seemed understandably confused. Cristine didn't say anything, but Nick asked, "So what're these fygg things you need to find?"

Erik stiffened. But his voice was normal as he said, "Some things I was tasked with finding. It is rather a personal endeavour. I am afraid I cannot explain beyond that. Now, if no one minds, I will find a bed for the night."

He walked off, leaving us behind. I rubbed at the bridge of my nose. "I'll never understand him," I muttered. "Strange boy." _Though he does have an excuse._

Nick shrugged. "Well, I suppose there's no point in staying up much later," he said. "Are either of you going to bed yet?"

I shook my head. "I'll be up a while longer."

"I'll be in in a moment," Cristine said.

"All right," Nick said, and followed Erik towards the inn.

I looked over at Cristine. "Okay," I said. "What was it that you wanted to talk about?"

"Over here," she replied, heading down the stairs and going right instead of left. I followed her to a small, mostly empty dining hall. We sat down at one of the tables.

For a long moment, we were both silent. Cristine was playing with the funny-looking split sleeve of her new yellow-and-purple top. Finally, to break the silence, I asked, "So where did the new clothes come from?"

"Mm?" Cristine asked, glancing down at the outfit. "Oh - I helped someone out while we were waiting for you and Erik to return. I got this as a reward."

"It...it looks good on you."

"Thanks."

After another silence, one that felt about ten times longer, Cristine took a deep breath and looked up at me. "Tammy," she said quietly, "I need to talk to you."

"Erm...I figured as much?"

Contrary to what I'd expected, though, my usually cheerful friend didn't laugh - not even a little bit. She bit her lip and glanced away.

"Hey, I'm sorry," I said, a guilty pit forming in my stomach. "Come on, Cristine. What's got you all knotted up?" I could hear her discomfort - and an array of other things which only came out as confusion.

Cristine didn't look back at me. "Look, I..." she said, and then sighed. "It's just... I don't... Why are you so lonely?"

Whatever I'd been expecting her to say, it definitely wasn't that. I blinked and fumbled for words for a moment. All I could come up with in the end was, "What do you mean, lonely? I'm with people all the time - you more than anyone. How can I be lonely if I'm with someone?" It was the same thing I'd said to the Faerie, but this time I knew it wasn't entirely true.

Cristine seemed to know that, too. "You are," she said, her delicate eyebrows knotted with concern. "You shut everyone out - me, Nick, Patty, _everyone_! You never tell anyone anything real about yourself. And when you have trouble, you go off on your own when there are plenty of people around who can help you. _Why_!?"

I bit my lip uncomfortably as the words and the desperate concern of the song in my mind crashed down on me. "Cristine, I..."

"Please, don't give me an excuse," Cristine said, looking at me. "I understand that you might not be ready to talk about whatever it is, but you have to realise that there are other people out in the world, and some of them care about you! Shutting people out won't get you anywhere." She looked down, letting her brown ringlets fall across her face. The tempo slowed, changing from desperate to sad. "You're my best friend, Tammy. But I can't even say I miss you when you do things like that, because I've never really known you." She looked back up at me. "I just want to know why!"

"Cristine..." I murmured, my body slumping. I moved my hand, thinking about touching her shoulder reassuringly, but I hesitated. I didn't know how she'd take it.

So I drew my hand back and said, "I...I want to tell you. But I can't. I'm not ready, I don't know how...and it's not all mine to tell." My mind went to the Faerie wood, the emotion-songs I heard, my ability to see Celestrians. How could I ever explain that to an ordinary human?

But looking at Cristine's sad figure, I felt myself tear up. She was right. The Faerie was right. I was lonely. But I didn't know how to stop being that way.

Cristine looked at me sadly. "I was afraid of that," she murmured. She smiled sadly. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," I said quietly. "Believe me. You have no idea how sorry I am." I tried to smile, but I was afriad it came across as more of a grimace. That was how it felt, anyway. "Some friend I am."

"Don't say that," Cristine told me. She stood up and moved to hug me. I couldn't hug her back - she'd pinned my arms to my sides - but I pressed my head against one of her arms, trying to express everything I was feeling in that one gesture. It couldn't have worked half as well as I wanted it too.

"Goodnight, Tammy."

And she let go and walked away.

* * *

After talking to a few people in the Abbey the next morning, we went back to the head priest with what we'd found out. Well, what Nick had found out. Neither Cristine nor I had been up to much speaking, and Erik was being himself - meaning he had little desire to speak with mortals.

"Ah, it's you," the priest said.

"Yes, sir," Nick said, taking charge. "We found out what happened to the Abbot. He left the abbey after he ate that fruit we mentioned yesterday."

The priest blinked in surprise. "What?" he asked. "Are you sure?"

Erik nodded. "Sir, it harbours a strange power," he said. "It would likely have a strange effect should it be consumed."

"I see..." murmured the priest. "Well..."

After a moment of thought, he seemed to think of something. "Of course! The Tower of Trades!" he cried.

"The what?" I asked.

"The Tower of Trades," the priest repeated. "Legend tells that it is where the vocation-changing rite was carried out in days of yore, but now it is overrun with monsters. Under normal circumstances, the Abbot would never have considered venturing into such a dangerous place, but...well, if you say this fruit may have afforded him magical powers, perhaps his curiosity finally got the better of him. Oh, dear!" He hesitated, looking us over. Then he said, "I, I don't like to ask, but there is no one else... Could you possibly go to the tower and bring the Abbot back? We men of the cloth are neither equipped nor incline to battle monsters. Please, I implore you to help!"

Erik, Cristine, Nick and I looked around at each other, but it wasn't exactly a tough decision. "Certainly," Erik said, looking back at the priest.

"Oh, thank you!" he replied. "Before you go, let me teach you the secret was to enter the tower. You must stand at the entrance and take a bow. Just one will suffice. The Tower of Trades is to the east of Alltrades Abbey. May the Almighty watch over you and guide you to the Abbot!"

* * *

The walk to the Tower of Trades wasn't much fun. The weather was nicer than it had been - spring's capricious behaviour was working in our favour - but we were all quiet. Erik was thinking about something, I could tell; Cristine and I were both feeling too awkward to say anything to one another; Nick was just walking along, taking our silence in stride but looking at all of us oddly.

So, since we were all silent, I joined Erik in thinking. The only problem was that I had no idea what to think about. My dream from the Observatory was too confusing for me to be able to wrap much of my brain around it. All I was sure about was that it had been real - there was no way it had been some strange concoction of my subconscious. I just didn't know what it meant.

And then there was this...longing.

When Catarrhina had gone on, I'd heard her song, and that had been what had started it. It didn't make much sense. Usually, when I helped a spirit on, I felt what they'd been feeling - that was why I always had so much trouble after I helped one that had been held on the earth by sadness. But if that was the case, then what I was feeling ought to have been the beautiful emotion that her song had inspired in me. Instead, I felt empty, like there was something important missing from my soul. The strangest part, though, was how familiar it was - like I'd always felt it, but had only noticed it when, for the brief span of that song, the missing piece was filled.

_You were not made to be alone, Tamara._

Somehow, the two fit together. The longing and the dream were connected, however tenuously. But I couldn't figure out how. All thinking about it did was exacerbate my confusion and the sense of longing.

_You must forget your lonliness._

I didn't know how. But I hadn't lied to Cristine the night before: I wanted to forget. I'd needed to be lonely for a long time, and even though I didn't need to any more, it was hard to get out of the habit.

After all, you didn't easily forget how to keep yourself safe once you'd learnt the first time.

* * *

The Tower of Trades would have been creepy if it hadn't been for all the light the windows let in. There was almost no evidence of it ever having been inhabited by humans, and the priest had been right - it was overrun by monsters. We made our way through the corridors carefully, trying not to attract any more attention than absolutely necessary. Fortunately, we managed to avoid getting into fights, aside from one little brawl with a very grumpy slime knight.

At the top of the tower, we paused and looked around. There was no sign of the abbot. There was, however, a very odd sight leading off the edge of the tower in front of us: a path of light that led to what looked like an empty doorway.

"Twenty gold says we have to go through there to find Abbot Jack," I said.

"I'll see that twenty and raise you five," Cristine said, smiling slightly. "Anyone else have money to put in?"

Nick laughed. "I think there's something somewhere about priests not gambling."

"But you're not a priest yet," Cristine said.

I smiled at the back-and-forth and glanced at Erik, who was watching it, almost seeming amused. I looked at him for a moment, surprised. _Huh._

But then he caught me looking at me and shook his head like he was clearing it. "Let us see if that is where the abbot is," he said, gesturing to the doorway.

He strode forwards. Before he stepped onto the path, though, he hesitated for a half a second, glancing down. Then he straightened his shoulders and walked out.

"It is safe," he called back.

We followed him out onto the path. It was perfectly solid, but the light didn't obscure the view of the drop beneath our feet. The sight made my stomach clench uncomfortably. None of us were eager to stay out there, but we were all even more scared to step through the doorway.

In the end, it was Nick who went through first, though only very slowly. He put one foot through the doorway. The foot disappeared immediately, along with the rest of the leg that went through the door. But whatever was on the other side was solid. Nick tested his weight, and then stepped through the rest of the way, disappearing. We were quick to follow him. The air in the doorway felt thick, like stepping through water, except that I didn't get wet. When I came out on the other side, I couldn't see the same thing I'd seen through the door.

We were standing on a large stone platform, which was surrounded by a strange, colourful sheen. A grey-haired man in abbot's robes stood in the centre of the platform: Abbot Jack, no doubt. His hands were out in front of him, and I could hear him murmuring.

"Almighty power that commands all trades... O mysterious force that drives the wind of change..." He raised his right arm. "Come! Come to me n - Hm!?"

Erik had sneezed, distracting the abbot from his prayer. I almost wanted to laugh - holier-than-thou Celestrian Erik, sneezing like any old mortal! - except that the look on Abbot Jack's face dissuaded me. His thick grey brows were knotted in anger, and his eyes were wide. He looked more than a bit maddened.

"Who dares interrupt this holy ceremony?" he demanded. "If your purpose is to disrupt the rite, your efforts shall be in vain. None shall interfere with the will of the heavens!"

Then he turned away like Cristine, Nick, Erik and I had never existed. "The power is mine now. The power of supreme guidance. The wisdom to lead my flock along only the brightest of paths. And now I, Abbot Jack of Alltrades Abbey, implore you to grant me yet more power, that I may guide yet more lost souls! Fill me now! Annoint me! Grant me the gift of ultimate guidance!"

A small blue light flashed in the sky. But then it winked out and, with a loud rushing noise, dark energy and light began to swirl around him. All of us shrank back. The pattern of the energy and the lightning was too familiar to me - it was the same pattern as Morag's curse, the same as the dark light that had started all of this.

But the abbot didn't seem to see the danger. "Yes...YES!" he cried. "The power comes... Let it consume me!"

I shivered, trying to block the malevolence of the light from my mind as it closed in a dome over the abbot's shape. Dark, disturbing chords in a jarring rhythm sawed at my nerves, already raw from thinking on the trip to the tower.

A tall shape rose beneath the dome, taking the place of the abbot's plain form.

"Wh-What is this...?" came his voice, but it was different. It had undertones of the same dark tune playing through my head. "What have I become? This hideous form...am I a...a monster...? This...darkness... This...black power... It is not what I wished for..."

The darkness vaporised, but the dark music still played. A tall, bluish-purple figure kneeled where the abbot had been before the light.

"But perhaps..." it murmured. "Yes...hm hm hm... I see now. It is through tyranny and fear that I shall ensure my charges follow the righteous path!" His voice thundered on those words. Then he rose and turn in an impossibly quick motion, but fortunately he didn't seem to notice us. "I am no longer Jack of Alltrades!" he cried. "I am become Master of Nu'Un, and all will learn to obey me...or suffer my wrath!"

Then he noticed the four of us at the edge of the platform. "Hm hm hm," he chuckled softly. The sound made my stomach turn. "Well, well. What perfect timing. I was just looking for a subject on whom to test the true extent of my new-found power." He moved into a readier stance, holding one clawed hand up by his chest. "I wonder, will you allow me to guide you on the righteous path...or will you suffer the consequences of disobedience?"

I flicked my left wrist and my whip uncoiled. We leapt into action.

We had to make full use of the size of the platform as we tried to avoid the once-abbot's lightning-quick attacks. Erik seemed to have a skill for making sure he was out of Jack's range of vision at all times, and managed to land some excellent blows, but more than once he obtained injuries from accidental movements of the spike-tipped tail. Cristine's gymnastic skills proved useful as well, and the four of us managed to hold our ground against our much larger opponent. Nick proved himself fearless as he dodged around, risking Jack's attacks as he healed us and landed blows of his own.

An especially impressive blow managed to knock him back and down onto his knees. Without hesitation, Cristine cast Crack, and the icicle crashed down onto the abbot's head. As he struggled to get up, I noticed a strange haze around him. It solidified into streams of darkness, flowing out and away from him.

"Nooooo!" he cried. "My power! My new-found power!"

The darkness gathered into a cloud around him and then exploded to reveal the abbot, back to his human form, lying on the platform. He looked a bit of a mess, but otherwise he seemed unharmed.

"Urgh..." he moaned. Slowly, he rose, holding his book in one hand and with the other held to his forehead. He looked around. "W-What am I doing here...?" he murmured. The he glanced at us. "And who...are you? Why are you here?"

We looked around at each other doubtfully. Then Cristine glanced back at the abbot. "We, erm..." she said, "we were searching for a shining fruit."

Abbot Jack blinked. "Yes, of course," he said. "I ate a shining fruit and...I remember very little after that..." He looked down. "I only remember a terrifying feeling that I was...losing myself..."

Erik was looking at the abbot, his silvery brows furrowed like he was thinking. "You remember nothing?" he asked. When the abbot shook his head, Erik rattled off the story in his usual fashion. The abbot recoiled in shock.

"Hm?" he asked. He seemed appalled. I bit my lip. The dark music in the back of my mind had vanished with the cloud of black energy, but now there was another jarring tune: shock and horror. This was a fun day for music...

Cristine spoke more gently: "It was the fruit, sir. It's not anything normal. There was nothing you could have done about it."

"I see..." Jack murmured. Then, slowly, he began walking back towards the abbey, murmuring something about lost souls. I was distracted from him by a gleam in the corner of my eye. I glanced over to see a shining golden fruit materialise in the middle of the platform. My eyes went wide.

"Look at that!" exclaimed Stella, popping out to full size. "It's only a flapping fygg! But I thought that addled old Abbot said he'd eaten it..."

Erik crossed swiftly and picked the fygg up. I looked at it, almost feeling awed. It wasn't shining really, but it looked so impossibly _real_ that it seemed to make everything around it dull and transparent by comparison.

There was a soft gasp from Cristine. "That's the fruit the abbot ate?" she whispered. "What...what is it?"

Nick shrugged, seeming as transfixed as the rest of us.

"...Hm," Stella said. "You've got your hands on a fygg at last. I'm over the moon for you, but... I can't help worrying after seeing what eating one can do to even a mild-mannered old mortal like the Abbot... Ah, well." She shrugged. "Not much we can do about it, eh? Let's get back to the Abbey."

* * *

As we walked back along the path to Alltrades, Nick said, "So what are these fruits you're gathering? They don't exactly seem like a normal collector's item."

Erik looked around at him. "Hm?" he asked. "Oh. The fyggs." He hesitated. "They...I was asked to gather them by an old aquaintance whom I greatly admire. They are very important to him, and immensely dangerous in the wrong hands. Such as those of the abbot. They have a...particular potency."

"It sounds like a drug," Cristine murmured.

I shrugged. "Well, you wouldn't know the danger to look at them," I said. "They look...just wow."

"Mm." Erik looked ahead. "Either way, they are dangerous. We need to retrieve them before more people like Abbot Jack fall victim to their power."

We kept walking in silence. Erik had gone back to his thoughts. I wondered what had him so absorbed. He'd been doing that ever since we'd left the Observatory.

But then I sighed inaudibly. It wasn't like I was one to talk about keeping things to myself.

It looked like we were both having to deal with our secret worries.

* * *

Okay, I am absolutely in shock - I did _not_ think I was going to finish this chapter soon enough to post this weekend! I didn't get much chance to write this week, and I've been a little absorbed by my original story, too. But I got inspired today after a few very cheering e-mails. One was my first review (Thanks again, Hirundine!) and the other was one awesome enough to make me go teenager-y, hand-flail-ly, and giggly: it was from an agent to whom I'd sent a query letter about my first full-length original story. It wasn't a full acceptance, but she asked to see the first five pages of the manuscript and it was the first thing I've gotten that wasn't a rejection. So, all in all, I've had a pretty great day! Unlike Tammy...

Well, hopefully I'll get more chance to write this week. This last-second panic gets things done, but I'd like to be able to take my time for once!

May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	7. Chapter 7

IT WAS ALMOST ten in the morning when we reached Porth Llaffan, a tiny fishing village on the southern end of Newid Isle. As we got closer, my heart began beating faster. Something had the villagers excited.

We slipped through the gate and found that they were all gathered down on the beach. I peered around a few villagers. In the very front of the crowd, closer to the ocean than the others, was a young girl with her pink hair pulled up in pigtails. She was facing the waves.

"Ohh!" exclaimed one of the villagers. "She's startin', she's startin'!"

The girl moved forwards slowly, walking into the water. Then she kneeled down, not seeming to care that her patched leather dress was getting soaked. "O mighty Lleviathan!" she said, hardly loud enough for me to hear over the noise of the water. "Rise up from the depths and bless us with Youer presence! Lend us Youer power, and shower the gifts of the oceans upon we, the humble folk of Porth Llaffan."

As she raised her head, I felt a rumbling beneath my feet. I inhaled sharply. "Earthquake," I hissed, grabbing Cristine's hand. I was somewhat accustomed to the things, but the only one Cristine had ever felt had been the one that had started everything.

Stella didn't seem to notice the earthquake – I supposed the wings were helpful. She was watching the scene with interest. "Ooo!" she said. "What's all this about? Sounds juicy!"

"Look!" yelled someone in the crowd of villagers. None of them seemed perturbed by the earthquake. "Over there! It's Lleviathan!"

I followed the villagers' gazes to see a huge, purplish-blue fish tail come up out of the waves. My eyes went wide. How big a fish would it have to be to have a tail that size?

Then it slapped down on the water, and I ducked as a spray of brine showered down on the beach. Everyone else had ducked, too – except the faerie. "Aaaaaagh!" she screeched. When the water drained into the sand, I glanced up. Stella was frozen mid-flutter, soaked through and spluttering.

"Wahoo!" cheered a villager. "Praise be! Fish! Buckets and buckets of fish! There's lovely!"

Stella obviously didn't agree. "Gah!" she spluttered. "I'm fl-fl-flapping soaked! Why not give the newcomers a word of warning before it starts raining sprats and cods, hm!?"

Erik snorted softly. I rolled my eyes. Stella ignored us.

"So what was that gimongous great big thing anyway?" she asked. "And what's it doing being bossed about by a little girl?"

"Something seems fishy about this," Cristine murmured, and then giggled.

I buried my face in my hands.

"Almighty, Cristine!" I moaned, but I was laughing too. "That was terrible!"

She laughed. "Doesn't stop you from thinking it's funny, though, does it?"

Nick rolled his eyes, smiling. "There's something inherently attractive about lame jokes."

"Lame!" Cristine exclaimed, hiding her smile. "That is an insult, Nicolas Graych!"

Erik was watching all of this with what was almost a smile. Before the conversation – if one could call it that – could escalate, though, he said, "I think we ought to speak with this girl."

I glanced over to see the pink-haired girl talking to an older woman over by a ripped fishing net. She wasn't quite as little as I'd first thought, I realised; she was muscular, like she was used to hard work, probably fishing. Still, she didn't look very old – probably not even a teenager yet.

She looked away from the woman she was talking to and spotted the four of us. Saying something quick to the woman, she left and hurried over.

"You're travellers, aren't you?" she asked.

We nodded.

A relieved smile spread across her face. "I couldn't trouble you to come by my house this evenin', could I? It's the tiny little place to the east of the dock. I'm shooer youell find it. There's somethin' I'd like to ask you."

"Sure," Nick said. "What –?"

But the girl had already turned and gone back to her conversation with the woman.

We looked at each other. I shrugged. "Well," I said, "I guess we have a little while to wander around town." I looked over my shoulder to the little stone church. Even though it was Sunday morning, it looked to be empty. Everyone was out gathering the fish. "I think I'm going to go to church."

"It doesn't look like there's a service going on," Cristine said.

I shrugged. "I'd still like to go. See you later."

And, waving, I headed off to the church.

Cristine had been right: there wasn't a service going on. The priest was up front, seeming bored. I slid into a pew near the back and sat down.

Then I sighed, folding my hands in front of me. _I don't know what to do. This is too much, Almighty, I can't deal with it all. The Faerie and Cristine and Erik and these fyggs – I can hardly even keep them all in my head together, let alone think them through. _I leaned forwards, resting my head on my hands. _I can't do this. Help me, please. Show me what to do. What I need to do, how I need to act, whatever – I can't figure it out. And I can't do it alone._

I swallowed as that thought went through my head. The idea that I couldn't face things on my own wasn't one that had ever occurred to me. I'd grown up doing things alone. It was the way I'd learnt to work. The idea that I needed someone else kind of scared me.

_ Please. _

I was still sitting like that when, a few minutes later, I heard the sound of feet against the rush floor of the church. I glanced up to see Erik. He moved to the pew in front of me and sat down. I thought about saying something to him, but his posture forbade conversation. It was honestly about the same as mine had been – hands folded, head down, back hunched. So I let him alone and started flipping through the nearest hymnal. I tried to fill my mind with that music instead of what I could hear from Erik. But it didn't work – the quiet concern of his prayer crowded out any music I could conjure up from the book.

So I sat back and sighed inaudibly. My powers were definitely getting stronger, I thought. Normally I wouldn't have been able to hear Erik as loudly as I did then; it should have been just background noise, something almost unnoticeable. It was still quiet, but not as quiet as it would have been even a week before. I wondered if it was being in such close quarters with Erik. He was a Celestrian, after all, even if I was the only one who could tell by looking at him; he was bound to have some effect on the people around him. Or maybe it was my encounter with the Faerie in my dream.

Thinking about that made me feel strangely empty. It was weird. Others' emotions usually left me full to bursting. Things like what I'd felt when I'd exited the Starflight, or from Catarrhina's ghost, or from the Faerie, though, didn't. I couldn't understand it, but even just thinking about it left me with a strange longing which I understood even less. I didn't even know what I was longing _for_. I just…_was_.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when Erik spoke. "Strange," he said. "I would have thought, ready as you are to air your opinion on everything, you would have asked me what was going on by this point."

I shrugged, letting my heart slow back down. "I dunno," I said. "I guess I just figured that if you wanted me to know, you'd tell me."

"Mm." Erik nodded and didn't look at me. I shifted in the pew, thinking about leaving but unsure about where I'd go. So I stayed.

After a few more minutes of perusing the hymnal, I heard Erik again. "It is my master."

I blinked. "The one you said was strange?" I asked. "Aqu…Aquila?"

He nodded, still not turning around. "I spoke with Apus Major while you slept," he said. "He told me that Aquila was among a number of Celestrians who descended to the Protectorate in search of those who fell in the quake. I am the only one to have returned."

"And you're worried about Aquila," I finished. Erik nodded slightly.

"He is strange," he said, "and rather strict, but he is a good master and a good Celestrian. He trained me for longer than you and most likely your parents as well have been alive. I am concerned for his welfare."

I nodded, not saying anything. It occurred to me then to wonder about just how old Erik was. He only looked about fifteen or sixteen, but that had to be misleading if he'd been training under Aquila for so long. And when I'd met Cygnus, he'd said something about being "so many years" my elder. Just how long did Celestrians live…?

"So what is it that you are concerned about?" Erik asked, rousing me from my random thought tangent. "Does it have to do with what occurred between you and Cristine?"

I blinked. "How did you –?"

Erik snorted. "I may have been absorbed in my own thoughts," he said, "but I am not blind. You have both been very quiet ever since we returned from the Observatory. What happened?"

I raised my eyebrows at him. "From listening to that, it almost sounds like you care about our inferior mortal lives."

"I do not. I am merely bored," he said, but he was smiling slightly. That on its own was enough to surprise me into smiling back.

"Well, if you're bored," I said. "I'd hate to leave you with nothing for that big Celestrian brain to think about."

Then I sighed. "I don't even know where to start."

"The beginning is generally a good place," Erik said mildly.

I wrinkled my nose. The beginning was a place I wasn't ready to go just then.

Finally, what I came up with was, "Well, I guess it's sort of...I can...hear, I suppose - hear emotions, other peoples', I mean. They're like songs, playing through my head."

Erik's brows knotted up. "Songs?"

I nodded. "Really beautiful, sometimes. Usually I can't hear them well, but ever since the earthquake I've been getting more sensitive. That's why I had to leave after Catarrhina's funeral - all the sadness was overwhelming. Most of what I did before you showed up was sit there crying. And at the Observatory - the first thing I heard when I stepped off was this...this incredible song. I don't even know how to describe it, but I'd have gone on listening to it forever if I could have. And it was so powerful."

Erik didn't seem to have any response to that. I couldn't blame him. It was a little much.

"So...you are empathic."

I blinked. "I'd never thought to use that word. But yeah, I guess that's it. I don't know why I can hear it, but..." I sighed. "It's caused some trouble with me and Cristine. Trying to deal with it around people is counterproductive. I've learnt how to deal alone. But Cristine...she knows I can see ghosts and understands when I'm emotional after I help one on, but I don't know how to tell her about the rest of this. I know it hurts her when I shut her out, but I don't know what else to do."

There was a moment while Erik digested that. Finally, he said, "I do not know what to tell you."

I laughed drily. "Yeah, well," I said. "I wasn't expecting advice. I don't think this is something where someone else can tell me what to do. Anyway, I doubt I'd take your advice."

"No," Erik agreed, shaking his head. "You would be more likely to strangle me with your whip for attempting to intercede in affairs that are not my own."

This time, my laugh had more humour in it. "Yes, that's exactly what would happen."

Erik snorted. "I do not yet truly understand mortals," he told me, rising. "But I suppose you are not quite as strange as your behaviour would suggest. Perhaps by the time this is all said and done I will understand why Aquila seemed so interested in your kind." He shrugged. "Either way, you are all strange beings. And you are the strangest of them all."

"I wouldn't say that too hastily if I were you," I said, but I didn't bother arguing any further.

Erik didn't seem too interested in pursuing the subject anyway. "Goodbye, Tammy."

And he left the church without another word.

* * *

We were at the girl's house by sundown. Cristine was arguing cheerfully with Nick about the merits of Swinedimples Academy, a prestigious school in Snowberia, far to the northeast of Porth Llaffan.

"Well, yeah, their training programmes are wonderful," she was saying, "but from all I've read it's not nearly as good with subjects outside of that and the core subjects - maths, English, the like. Their arts programme, for instance - it seems really quite bad."

Nick was shaking his head before she was even finished speaking. "Those books had it wrong," he said. "My mum and dad both went there, and they said it was all round a great school. D'you know anyone who went there?"

"No - "

The girl showed up before anything more could be said, which was a bit of a pity - I'd always heard Swindedimples was a great school, and I'd more than once thought about trying to earn the money to send myself there for a year. The weather was terrible, but I was sure the place was brilliant.

"Hello, travellers," she said, letting us into the house and starting a small fire. "I'm ever so glad to see you. I've been waitin' for someone who's not from by here to happen along, see. It's just that..."

As she worked to build up the little driftwood flames, the door opened and a black-haired man walking in. "Jona!" he called. "You in, dab?"

We all looked up, and the man blinked as he saw four unfamiliar faces. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "I didn't know you had comp'ny, like. I've not seen your faces around here before, have I?"

Nick shook his head.

The man returned his attention to Jona. "Anyhow... Mayor Bryce wants a word with you, Jona," he told her. "You'd best come along now."

"Oh!" Jona said, scrambling up from beside the fire. "Yes, of course.."

The man nodded and left. Jona looked around at us sheepishly. "I... I'm sorry," she said. "I won't be long, I'm shooer. Could you wait for me 'til I get back?"

We didn't.

We hurried after her across the darkening village, staying out of sight. When she went into what was without a doubt the biggest house in the place, I jerked my head towards a window. We certainly couldn't go inside after her.

Fortunately, the window was open to catch the soft breeze coming off the ocean. I poked my head up above the sill just far enough to be able to see inside. Jona was standing at a table across from a tall, thin man with a goatee - Mayor Bryce, without a doubt - and a sandy-haired boy who was probably about Jona's age.

"...Been a tidy old while now since Dylan went missin' in that storm," Mayor Bryce was saying. "I-I'm sorry in my heart for you, bach. But it's hopeluss to go on believin' he's alive. He's not comin' back, Jona. And that's why..." He took a deep breath and looked Jona directly in the eye. "I've decided I'll afto adopt you."

The sandy-haired boy blinked. "Hah?" he asked, looking at Bryce. "There's...there's fantastic Dad!" He smiled and looked at Jona. "You don't want to be all alone, after all, do you, Jona?"

"You and young Bryson here get along all right, like," Bryce said. "And I've always thought of you as one of my own, like. You've put on a brave face for long enough, bach. It's time you let go now."

There was a long pause. Jona stared down at the table.

Finally, she said, "Thank you... Thank you, Mayor. I'll... I'll be shooer to give it some thought."

Her tone made me doubt that the thought would end in her saying yes to Bryce.

She had looked up. "But, erm..." she continued, "bein' as I'm by here, there's somethin' I was hopin' to talk to you about too. I've been thinkin', and I don't want to summon Lleviathan any more."

That got a reaction. "But - ! Jona..." Bryce started. Jona interrupted before he could object.

"I...I just don't feel like it's right somehow, livin' like this," she said quickly. "So I - "

"Don't be spoutin' nonsense like that all bald-headed, Jona!" snapped Bryce, and I flinched back both from Jona's shock and the sudden force of Bryce's anger. "No one in the village wants to hear it. Brazen, it is!"

But before I could hear any more, I touched Cristine's shoulder. "Let's hurry back to the house," I whispered. "I've got a funny feeling the argument's going to be done soon."

She looked like she wanted to object, but I slipped away from the window and took off running across the village. I could hear frustration from behind me as the others followed.

"Tammy!" Erik snapped back inside Jona's house. "What possessed you to run away like that? That sounded like an important discussion."

"I think we heard enough to know what's going on," I said shortly. "That's got to be what Jona wants to ask us about - summoning Lleviathan."

"That thing isn't Lleviathan," Nick said. "Lleviathan isn't real. That fish is unnatural, for sure, but it's not a god."

"Doesn't mean it's not dangerous," I said darkly. "And you heard Bryce's reaction when Jona said she didn't want to summon it any more - he practically exploded! Cristine was right - there's something fishy going on here."

Erik paused. "If you two are correct," he said, "then Jona was right in not wishing to summon it any more."

I bit my lip and glanced out the window. "But we'll have to warn her to be careful," I murmured. "I'm sure she saw it, but... I dunno. I think she'd end up getting the short end of the stick if she crossed Mayor Bryce."

At that moment, Jona walked back into the house. We all shut up.

We stayed shut up while Jona told us in more detail what we'd heard at the mayor's house. Her father, Dylan had been lost at sea during the earthquake. Porth Llaffan had been in trouble - not one of their fishing vessels had escaped without major damage, and most of the nets were ruined. Then, not long afterwards, Jona had been praying. That was when Lleviathan first showed up.

"And ever since," she said, "the village has been relyin' on me prayin' to Lleviathan for all its food. It's just not right, relyin' on the God of the Sea for all our food like we are. But no one wants to hear it. And Mayor Bryce...well, he's the worst of the lot. That's why I was hopin' to ask an outsider like you for youer opinion. You know, someone impartial, like. So, what do you think? It's wrong livin' like we are, intit?"

"Yes," Erik said, not even pausing to consult the rest of us.

Jona sighed. "Well it's a relief to hear someone else say it at last, I can tell you," she said, smiling. "Right, I've got my gummel up now. I'm goin' to give it to Mayor Bryce straight this time. I'm not callin' Lleviathan any more."

She looked all ready to stride back to the Mayor's house, too, but then the clock at the church chimed nine.

"Oh dear!" Jona exclaimed. "Look at the time! I've been spoutin' off so much, it's got ever so late all of a sudden. And I don't suppose you've got a place to stay, have you?"

"Erm, no," Cristine said. Jona nodded.

"Well, youell afto spend the night by here, then."

And she would brook no argument, shuffling us off to bed like a mother hen with her chicks.

* * *

"Oi, Erik, are you awake?"

Erik rolled over, suppressing a groan at the unwelcome sound of the faerie's voice. "Silence, Stella," he hissed. "I do not _wish_ to be awake."

She didn't take the hint. "Why did you have to go shooting your mouth off, hm? What if they kick the poor girl out of the village? I'll admit that Llevia-whatsit seems like trouble. He certainly needs to learn a thing or two about not splashing people... But what can we do about it? Are you going to poke your sticky nose in village affairs? Well careful, because it might get burnt!"

From a little ways away, he heard Tammy snort. "I hate to agree with her," she said, "but Stella's right. You couldn't have at least warned her to tread lightly where Bryce is concerned?"

He scowled into the darkness. "Why did you not speak up?"

"She didn't give us time," Tammy replied. "You were the only one who got a chance to speak. Why the bloody hell couldn't you have told her to be careful!?"

Erik snorted and rolled over again. He felt uneasy about the situation, but he certainly wasn't going to admit it to Tammy and Stella.

But, in the morning, he discovered that they had been correct, for Jona was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Well, here I am, shocked that I have once again managed to get the chapter within a week! I managed to cut it really close this time, though. It's six fifty PM on Sunday night, and I've just now finished. This chapter is not going to get any proofreading, I'm afraid...

Still, it's been fun. Imagine - Erik becoming interested in mortals! Doesn't stop him and Tammy from fighting, of course...but what fun would that be, anyway?

Anyway.

Hirundine, I don't think you want to get me started on my original story - my explanations start off strong and end with me stumbling awkwardly and saying, "Yeah...I'm not really sure how to explain it...it's like...well...um...yeah." Actually, that's how they start, too...

Well, til next time, may all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	8. Chapter 8

IT WASN'T LONG before we realised that looking for Jona in the village was useless. The whole place was abuzz, but the girl was nowhere to be found. Neither, I realised, was Mayor Bryce.

"This is your fault," I accused Erik.

"My fault?" he asked incredulously. "How is this my fault?"

I gestured at the village. "Look round," I said. "Neither Jona nor Mayor Bryce are here. We would have noticed if she'd been spirited away in the middle of the night. She must have got up this morning and gone to tell Bryce that she wouldn't summon Lleviathan any more!"

Erik pursed his lips, clearly irritated. "The question still remains," he said, "of how this is my fault. Or did you not see that she was troubled by what was occurring here? She would have gone without my telling her that summoning the fish was a bad thing."

"You could have at least warned her to be careful about it," I started, but then Nick stepped between us.

"Stop it, you two," he said in a tone that brooked no argument. "It doesn't matter whose fault it was. All that matters is making sure Jona's okay."

Cristine nodded. "Let's talk to Bryson," she said. "He's still here, at least. There's a chance he'll know where his dad took Jona."

Reluctantly, I put my irritation aside and hurried across the village with the others. We found Bryson standing by a gate out of town, looking worried.

"Bryson," Cristine said, and the boy turned. He seemed frightened until he saw that we were only a few years older than him – and Cristine's quiet, musical voice couldn't have been anything but helpful in relaxing him. "Jona's gone – have you seen her anywhere?"

"I knew it," Bryson said, biting his lip. "Jona came by here and told Dad she didn't want to call Lleviathan any more! You should have seen Dad's face! Fierce beyond, it was! Then he took her off to Cuddiedig Cliff. I've got a terrible feelin' about all this. I think you should go after Dad and Jona."

The four of us looked around at each other. My stomach sank.

"Thanks, Bryson," Nick said. We hurried out the gate and out towards Cuddiedig Cliff and, hopefully, Jona.

My anxiety didn't abate any on the rush through Tywill Cave. I managed to trip over a knocktopus's tentacles, thoroughly irritating it. As I scrambled away and the thing lunged for me, Cristine jumped forwards, drawing her fan and slicing through a tentacle in one smooth motion. Feminine as she could be at times, the girl was every bit as skilled in a fight as she was on the stage.

Suddenly feeling the need to lash out, I uncoiled my whip and snapped it at the knocktopus. The whip cut deep into the monster's knobby head with a satisfying noise. I smiled grimly.

As soon as it dissolved into the usual purple dust, we headed onwards.

Cuddiedig Cliff was all the way through the cave and out again into the warm spring sunshine. Normally, the warmth would have made me smile, but right then I was too worried. Which was strange. This was a bad situation, sure, but the severity shouldn't have been enough to have my stomach knotted up and my nerves on edge like they were.

Jona was standing near the edge of the cliff, facing the sea. Mayor Bryce was beside her.

"There's beautiful, eh, love?" he asked. As my nerves increased to near breaking point, I realised what it was. Somehow, the songs had vanished, but the emotions were still there. Cristine, Nick, Erik, Jona – they were all worried, even frightened in Jona's case.

Mayor Bryce was still talking. "I fancy you'll be able to clear youer head a bit by here and then we can have a tidy little chat."

Jona looked down wordlessly, her whole body rigid. Her fear curled into a hard knot in the pit of my stomach.

Bryce put a hand on the girl's shoulder, and, impossibly, she tensed further. "You must be awful tired, what with all the summonin' we've had you doin' lately, eh, you pooer thing," he said in a soothing tone. "Well, I wanted you to know that if you give youer Uncle Bryce the word, I'll see that the summonin' stops tomorrow. I'll just tell everyone in the village that you've lost the power to call Lleviathan. Simple, see?"

Everyone looked at Mayor Bryce in shock, including Jona. "Mr Mayor, I…"

"And then," Mayor Bryce said, still in a soothing tone, "you can pop down by here with me once in a while, and we can have a little summon in secret. There's all kinds of coral and pearls and such at the bottom of the ocean, see. And all that treasure in them sunken ships too. You could be askin' Lleviathan to bring the likes of that up for you now, couldn't you? Instead of borin' old fish, eh?"

Jona pulled away, staring at the mayor with a look of indignant shock mirrored in my mind. "Pearls?" she asked incredulously. "Treasure? Mr Mayor! I can't believe I'm hearin' this! Outrageous, it is!"

The way Mayor Bryce leaned in was meant to be comforting, but Jona was only unnerved. "Now, now, love," he said. "Don't get all het up. I only meant every once in a while. Whenever youer feelin' up to it, like. Just think how much happier we'd all be. All rich and contended, like."

Jona froze, shock turning to confusion. The others felt the same way, too. I didn't know what I felt – I couldn't pick my own emotions out of this bloody melee. _That_ was unnerving!

Erik glanced at me, and nudged me slightly. I jumped as concern poured into me, and I pulled away sharply. More confusion joined the mix now – not as strong as the concern from the touch, but more. I tried to block it all out and keep my attention on Jona and Bryce.

"Rich…?" Jona asked, blinking slowly. And then, more hesitantly, "Contented…?"

"That's right, bach," Bryce said gently. "And all you have to do is accept that youer father isn't comin' home and let me adopt you, see."

A sudden shock turned my stomach over.

"Simple. I'll be youer new father, love. There's tidy, eh?"

Jona was already shaking her head, seeming about ready to back away. "No!" she snapped. "Youer not my dad, and you never will be!"

The ground started to rumble beneath our feet as hot anger went through me.

"My dad's –"

"Er…Erik…." Stella said, looking out towards the ocean.

Before he could say anything, there was an almighty splash, and a giant fish burst out of the sea and landed on the edge of the cliff, glaring down out of yellow eyes. Jona and I stumbled back and fell over from shock. Cristine knelt down beside me and helped me up. I tried not to recoil from the rush of emotion that came with her touch.

We hurried forwards to see Mayor Bryce genuflecting in front of the fish. I restrained the urge to snort derisively.

"O mighty Lleviathan!" he cried. "Thank You! You heard ouer callin' and You've come to bless us with Youer help again!" Then he glanced over at Jona, who was still on the ground. "Come on, Jona, start prayin'. Ask Lleviathan to go and bring us some treasure by here!"

Lleviathan didn't seem to like that idea. It roared angrily, blowing Bryce backwards so he landed on his back. He screamed like a girl, I realised.

Then the fish reared up, exposing its red underside.

"J-Jona!"

Lleviathan jumped, mouth open, and came down to snatch Jona up in its jaws. Bryce scrambled away, not wanting to be next. My head was reeling. Terror, shock, anger – I didn't know whether I wanted to run away screaming or hack away at everything in sight.

Stella unwittingly made herself my first target if I decided on the latter option. "Yikes!" she exclaimed. "That was a bite from the blue! Something seriously fishy's going on here…"

"That's my line," Cristine murmured. "Come on! We have to get Jona out of there!"

We raced forwards, past the still-shocked Mayor Bryce, and started to fight the fish. I felt like I was being swept along in the tide of emotions, only doing what I was because the influence of my friends was strongest. I wasn't sure I'd have even been able to move otherwise. As it was, I was acting purely on instinct and habit, unable to summon any reason to use instead. My brain was overwhelmed. My body was the only thing working properly.

But, working with Nick, Erik, and Cristine, it was enough. Moving together in a way that wouldn't have been possible without the dozen or so battles we had under our belts together – not even mentioning the four years Cristine and I had spent fighting together – we managed to surround Lleviathan, threatening him from all sides so he couldn't focus on any one of us at a time. Dimly, I recognised that the emotions were doing the same thing with me.

I whipped the fish's sides, causing it to rear up, roaring in pain. Erik dug the razor claws on his left hand into the soft flesh on Lleviathan's underside and ripped upwards, scoring deep scratches that extended nearly three feet long as he scrambled back and the fish came back down to land. Lleviathan roared again, struggled for a moment, and then rolled onto its side, growing still. Its mouth fell open to reveal a terrified Jona, kneeling, with her eyes squeezed shut.

When she realised the battle was over, she blinked, rose shakily, and walked out of the fish's mouth. Then she glanced back. "I…I'm fine…" she murmured, surprised.

Then she looked at us. "Youer not hurt, are you?"

I shook my head along with the others, feeling relieved as the wild storm of emotions started to abate. I could think again!

Jona started moving towards us. Then Lleviathan's eyes gleamed, and a thrill of horror went through me. As it roared, Jona's eyes went wide and she whirled around. "Aaaaaah!" she screamed, seeing the fish lunge towards us. Then, to my shock, she stepped back and flung her arms out in front of us. "No!" she yelled. "P-Please! Don't hurt them!"

Lleviathan stopped flat, looking at Jona in what I could only describe as surprise. "But they're some of Mayor Bryce's stooges, aren't they?"

All of us stared at it – no, him, the voice was definitely male – and the amount of shock in everyone's brains threatened to overwhelm me again. This time, when I struggled to block it out, I dimly thought that I'd had a bit more success.

But more than anyone else's surprise was Jona's. She stared at Lleviathan, her blue eyes wide. "Y-Youer voice…!"

A soft, gentle blue light materialised over Lleviathan's head, and he grew still. The light resolved itself into the shape of a tall, muscular man with a moustache, ponytail, and short beard. I knew the sudden jolt of recognition and joy I felt wasn't mine.

"Da…Dad?" Jona whispered. "Dad!" She raced forwards and stopped in front of the fish, gazing up at her father with such a powerful feeling of relief and the now-familiar gentle emotion that I felt my eyes start to tear up. I didn't begrudge her seeing her father again – at that moment I literally could not have been happier for her, sharing her emotions as I was – but Almighty, this was annoying! I hated crying, and now here I was doing it for an emotion that I'd never felt myself. Certainly I'd never felt it for my own father – the heartless prat had probably been happy when he'd realised I'd run off. I knew I had been.

"Dylan!" exclaimed Mayor Bryce. "What in the name of…!?"

"What is it?" squawked Stella. "What the flap's going on!?"

Dylan was looking at us. "I'm sorry for what I've put you trav'llers through," he said. Then he looked at his daughter, and care bloomed across his rough features. "And Jona, bach… I can't tell you 'ow sorry I am for all the pain I've caused you."

He looked up. "That night of the storm I was thrown tidy from the boat, like. Then all of a sudden, this golden fruit drops down next to me. Fadin', I was, good an' fast, so I just grabbed hold of it, see. All I could think of was you, Jona –" he looked back down at her, "– back there on the shore. I was thinkin' 'ow you'd get on without me, you bein' still such a young dab an' all… And out there that day, right in the middle of the ocean, I died. Only, next thing I know… I'm not dead at all, I'm swimmin' round lookin' like a big old whale. Shocked, I was, I don't afto tell you!"

Jona was staring up at her father, extremely confused. "I… I don't…"

She may not have understood, but I did. Erik, Nick, Cristine and I exchanged glances. I could read the same thing in each person's face: _ a fygg! _

"I was bringin' all those fish by the village there so's you wouldn't afto go without, love," Dylan said. "I never thought it would bring all the rest of those gannets runnin' like it did… I've kept out of it 'til now, but enough is enough. Come on, love, let's leave this greedy village and its rotter of a mayor behind. You won't afto worry about nothin' once we're away from by here. I'll take care of you from now on."

"Oh, Dad…" Jona whispered, shaking her head sadly. "I can't. I, I just can't do that. I want to stay by here and help with the fishin', see." Her voice shook a little, but there was an edge of strength to the sadness. "I afto learn to stand on my own two feet. I've watched you workin' away all these years, and now it's my turn. I'll be the tidiest fisherman Porth Llaffan's ever known, just you wait and see."

I practically felt her swallow.

"I'll make you proud, Dad," she said quietly, looking up at him with such a strong rush of the gentle emotion that I thought I was going to cry. "I can't go on relyin' on you forever. It's time I started makin' my own way in the world. You understand, don't you…?"

"J-Jona…" Dylan murmured, looking down at her.

Then I heard Bryson's voice from behind us: "Jooonaaaaaa!"

He sprinted up the steps and stopped beside Jona, breathing heavily. Jona blinked. "Bryson?" she asked. "Whatever are you doin' out by here?"

"Are you alright?" he gasped, massaging a stitch in his side. "I-I'm sorry about my dad… I was sick beyond worryin' about you, I was. I had to come after you." Then he caught sight of Dylan, and his eyes went wide. "That's… That's youer dad, isn't it?"

Jona nodded. After several seconds adjusting to the new development, Bryson turned to look at the ghost of Jona's father.

"You can rely on me, sir," he said, straightening his shoulders, determined to make a good impression. "I'm no flag. I'll look after youer daughter when I grow up."

Jona looked at him, and I didn't need the broad smile spreading across her features to realise how happy that made her. "Bryson…"

Then she looked at her father. "Thank you so much for becomin' Lleviathan so you could carry on lookin' after me, Dad," she said. "But I'm alright now, see…"

Dylan looked at her for a long moment, a funny expression on his face – half-sad, half-proud. "Jona… I was so caught up worryin' about lookin' after my little girl that I never realised she'd grown into a fine young woman… If I'd only stopped to notice, I'd never afto 'ave caused you all so much trouble… I know you can do it, love, so I'm takin' you at youer word. I'll be watchin' over you every step of the way, mind." He smiled. "Good luck makin' youer own way in the world, bach. And goodbye…"

There was a bright gleam and a sudden upswing in the gentle emotion. As it died away, I felt a hole open up inside me, and the tears that had been massing in my eyes suddenly spilled over. _Gone again…_

"Look, Erik!" exclaimed Stella. "A fygg!"

I blinked and looked up to see a fygg floating down towards us from where Dylan's ghost had been hovering. Erik took it and put it in his bag.

Bryson hurried over to us. "Thank you ever so much," he said. "You really helped everyone in the village out." Then he turned to look at Jona. "Jona. D'you want to head back now?"

Jona was silent for a moment, staring out over the ocean. "Mmm…" she murmured. Then she turned and walked towards Bryson. Erik, Nick, Cristine and I looked at each other, and I rubbed viciously at my face to wipe away the tears as we turned to follow them back to the village.

* * *

_I was in the forest again. This time, I wasn't disoriented. I knew exactly who and where I was. And I knew what I needed to do. _

Hello?_ I called, starting to search through the trees. _Please, where are you? I need to talk to you!

** I am here, Tamara. **

_ As soon as I heard the voice, I relaxed a little. I turned to look at a tree to my right. That was the source of the voice, I realised. _

_ A sense of approval washed over me. _**You are more perceptive.**

Yes, I am,_ I replied. _Why is that?

**Powers grow stronger when they spend time in their sources. **

_ I blinked. _ Wait, you mean –?

_Amusement emanated from the tree. _**You seem so shocked, my child,**_ chuckled the voice. _**Is it so surprising?**

Erm…yes,_ I said, and laughed a little. _What does it mean if my powers came from here? Is empathy even really a "power"?

**All things can be considered powers, Tamara,**_ she replied. _ ** Your abilities, in particular. Few people can see ghosts, after all; few can sense the emotions of others; fewest of all can see the vanished wings and halo of a Celestrian. I would certainly call that a power. **

Um, okay,_ I said. Then I paused, basking in the warmth of the forest and the gentle pulse of emotions around me. _What do I do about it? It's not always exactly pleasant.

** What do you do about your own emotions when you need to regain control? **

_I snorted. _ Go off on my own and try to calm down.

_ There was a sense of slight exasperation from the woman. _**That is not what you need to do,**_ she told me. _**Remember what I told you: you were not meant to be alone. No one who can share in others' emotions can live out their life on their own. **

I've done pretty well so far. _ But, far from sounding rebellious, it just came out sad. Which was pretty much the same way I felt about it. _

**Tamara.**_ The woman seemed to be done. _**You must go now; it is nearly time for you to awake. Keep in mind what I said. You cannot live alone.**

Wait!_ I exclaimed as the forest started to fade. _Tell me one more thing!

** What? **

What's your name?

_The woman didn't sigh, but I could feel her quiet resignation. _**Very well, my child, **_she said. _ ** My name is Aegil. **

_ My eyes went wide. The last of the forest faded into darkness, but my mind didn't stop reeling. Because I knew that name. _

_ I'd asked Dad once about why my middle name was so weird. He said it had been my mum's name. _

_ My middle name was Aegil. _

* * *

And now I officially feel like a slug...urgh, I feel like I've taken so long to update this chapter! There's just a lot going on - our teachers have decided that the last three weeks of school make the perfect time for project-assigning, and I've got this apprenticeship at the local theatre. I love it there, but it leaves me with pretty much no time. I wrote almost this whole thing yesterday afternoon, at the coffee house thing we have before youth group. And then, of course, I didn't have time to proofread before bed, so here I am on Wednesday at almost eight o'clock, just now updating, and I haven't even gotten to watch the season finale of Hawaii Five-0 yet..._  
_

Okay, sorry, ignore my complaining. See, this is why I write - my characters might have hard times, but they, at least don't have to deal with school and work!

May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you.


	9. Chapter 9

WE LEFT PORTH Llaffan early the next morning, on the newly-running ferry that went to Slurry Quay. Stella was the only one of us who wasn't glad to be on the move.

"Well, if you'd ever told me I'd be using some mortal's ship to get about the place, I would have called you a bear-faced liar! Grr!"

She crossed her arms grumpily, glaring out at the water. I rolled my eyes. If Erik wasn't finding anything to complain about, the faerie certainly shouldn't have tried.

Anyway, the faerie's grumpy mood and even the head-reeling shock of my dream the night before weren't quite enough to put me in a bad mood. The weather was back to being beautiful – it had to be about twenty-five Celsius – and it was sunny, with just a little bit of a breeze.

As we sailed across the channel between Newid Isle and the mainland, I leaned against the side of the boat, thinking. Aegil had been right. My powers were getting stronger. I didn't know why. I wondered if that was why the songs had disappeared.

And I wondered about Aegil. If I was right, if she was my mother, what did that mean? All I really knew about my mum was that she had looked like me and she'd died not long after I was born. Dad hadn't liked to talk about her, and neither of us had liked talking to each other. It had always been more trouble than it was worth trying to press him for information. If my mum was a Faerie…

_It would probably explain a lot,_ I thought wryly. Like why I could see ghosts and Celestrians and faerie's and Erik's phantom wings and halo. And why I could sense emotions. But it was just such a strange idea. What did it mean?

My mind was going around in circles, distracting me to the point that when the guy at the helm started talking, I didn't notice until Cristine nudged me. Then I nearly jumped out of my skin and hoped I wasn't flushing as I started paying attention.

"…Word in the taverns is there's a beauty of a vessel down in Bloomingdale just sitting there with no one using here." He smiled knowingly. We thanked him for taking us over and got off the boat.

Slurry Quay was tiny, no more than a dock, a few barrels, an inn, and a little store out on a mat. Reluctant as I was to let go of too much money – we'd earnt money fighting monsters, but only just enough to keep us in food and make sure we could sleep indoors at night – but since it was just a couple pairs of shoes, I saw no point in pinching pennies. So, when we left Slurry Quay, the previously barefoot Erik had a pair of galvanised geta, and I had a new pair of rubber boots. My old leather ones had been falling apart at the seams and a little too small besides.

Cristine sighed. "Looks like we're stuck going to Dourbridge next," she said. "I don't think there's any way to avoid it if we want to get to Bloomingdale."

"What exactly is Dourbridge?" Erik asked, raising an eyebrow at Cristine's tone.

"The only place in the world where I favour modesty over practicality," I said grimly. "Come on. It's a straight shot across town to get out, and from there only a couple hours' walk to Bloomingdale."

Dourbridge was a grimy city full of has-been criminals and blokes on the run from the law. Cristine and I had been more times than I liked to think about, and we'd tried not to stay any longer than possible. We'd tried performing there once, but unfortunately by that point, we had hit puberty and actually looked like girls. The men had been more interested in watching us dance than in the play, and I'd had to punch several overly friendly fans so that we could get out of the city.

Erik's expression when he saw the city was honestly funny. I wasn't used to the griminess, but I at least knew to expect it. Clearly, he didn't. He looked revolted.

"What did we tell you?" Cristine said, hiding a smile and a little giggle. "Come on. Just across the bridge and we'll be out of here."

* * *

The grimy city was enough to remind Erik of everything he disliked about mortals. The place was disgusting, like the residents had left every bit of filth ever produced to lie about and decompose on its own. A thick, sluggish river wound its way through the city, clogged with debris and pollution. Erik was revolted, but it relieved him slightly to know that he was not the only one. Tammy, Cristine, and Nick seemed disgusted by the city, as well.

Halfway across the bridge – halfway to being free from the grimy confines of Dourbridge – a transparent, bluish figure materialised, looking out over the city. Beside him, Tammy stiffened.

"It's her," she whispered. "The girl from the clearing."

Erik looked at Tammy, and then at the girl, and realised she was right. Little of the ghost's figure was visible under the dark cloak she wore, but her despairing, worn-down posture was unmistakeable. Nick and Cristine had stopped, looking at them oddly.

"No…" murmured the ghost sadly. "Not here, either." She turned and saw Erik and Tammy staring at her. "Huh? S-Surely…"

She half-glided over, looking at each of them closely. There was a long pause, and then she shook her head. "No… No, it can't be…" She threw one last look at Erik, and headed west. "What am I thinking, mistaking a traveller for a Celestrian like that…?"

Erik and Tammy exchanged glances. Tammy looked as though she had tears in her eyes, Erik realised suddenly, and remembered what she had told him in Porth Llaffan. The mortal girl was an empath. Whatever had the ghost in such a state of despair must have worn on Tammy's mind, as well.

"Haven't I seen that fashion abomination somewhere before?" Stella wondered aloud. She looked after the now-dematerialised ghost, and then shrugged. "Oh well. Never mind. You've got fyggs to be finding, right? Well, let's hope your search is fruitful! Ha!"

Tammy cleared her throat. "Right," she said. "I, er, I thought I saw something. Never mind. Come on – let's get out of here."

Nick and Cristine looked at each other, but followed along without complaining. And soon enough, they were out of Dourbridge and back on their journey through the Protectorate.

* * *

I could feel curiosity burning from Nick and Cristine as we headed south towards the Lonely Plains, but I tried to ignore it. It wasn't like I had any idea what to tell them, anyway.

As we crossed the bridge, Cristine glanced over at the mountain looming to the east. "Hey," she said. "What do you say we go visit old man Mason? His house isn't far."

I glanced over, too. "Yeah," I said. "Could be a good idea. I don't reckon the guy gets much company."

"Who's old man Mason?" Nick asked.

"This old stoneworker who lives at the base of the Heights of Loneliness," Cristine said, jerking her head towards the mountain closest to us. "Tammy and I have visited him a few times. He's nice enough, if a bit obsessed with his craft."

Nick shrugged. "I'm game," he said. "Erik?"

"Mm," Erik said, regarding the mountain for a moment. Then he shrugged. "I can see no harm in it."

"All right, then," Cristine said, smiling. "Let's go!"

Soon, we had reached a clearing at the foot of the Heights of Loneliness. Mason's little cottage sat off to the side. Chunks of stone lay scattered about the place along with the usual dozen or so half-finished projects.

I knocked on the cottage door. "Mr Mason?" I called. "Mr Mason, it's Tammy."

No response. I knocked louder and got the same result. I glanced back at Cristine and the others, who all shrugged. So I turned the knob and let us all in.

Mason wasn't there, and I realised as I looked around that he hadn't been there for some time. Dust had settled in a light layer over everything. The four of us exchanged glances nervously. Something was wrong.

Looking around, I realised that there was a notebook open on the desk. I moved over to read it, feeling a bit like I was intruding but hoping for a clue. On the page facing us, there was a journal entry in Mason's small, spidery writing.

_It was an eternity ago. I told my poor sweetheart I'd be back in five years, and then set off on my travels. All I cared about was learning to work stone. Five years passed in the blink of an eye, but I barely noticed. When I finally made it back home, it was to find out that she'd gone and married another man. Och, that was an eternity ago, though. I'm an old man now. That was back in my younger days. I'm heading north to Zere Rocks. I doubt I'll be back at this hut again._

I looked up, running a hand through my hair. As the others finished reading, I felt their concern joining mine.

"We need to go up and find him," Cristine said, looking worried. "Zere Rocks is all the way at the top of the mountain – who knows what could have happened to him on the way up?"

So we left the clearing, heading north towards the Heights of Loneliness.

Cristine and I knew the way up to Zere Rocks – Mason had let us go up there with him once to see his project. As we went through the upward-sloping tunnels and, later, up vines and across them like they were tightropes, I marvelled that the old man had been able to haul himself up to the top again and again. The four of us were all in good condition from fighting and travelling, but it was still hard work. My main problem was with the vines. Nick didn't seem to have much trouble with them, and Cristine was basically dauntless about climbing and gymnastics, but my thoughts tended to sprint ahead of my instincts. And Erik didn't seem to be having an easy time of it, either. Thinking about what he'd said about falling from the Observatory, I decided _he_ had an excuse - but I didn't. So I just sucked it up and trembled my way up and across the vines.

Fortunately, we were soon back inside the mountain. It was only about fifteen minutes after that when we came out on the top and headed round the path to Zere Rocks. I was curious to see how it looked. The last time Cristine and I had been here had been nearly a year and a half previous. I imagined that a man as dedicated to his craft as Mason would have gotten a lot of work done during that time.

And I was proved right. We all stopped in amazement at the entrance to Zere Rocks and stared around at a flawless stone reproduction of Zere, down to every knot in the big centre tree.

"Whoa," breathed Nick. "How is this even possible?"

"Mason's a genius," Cristine murmured. "I knew he was good, but… This is beyond anything I would have pictured."

But, despite the amazingness of the stone village, something seemed wrong. It was too still. If Mason had been here, there should have been noise – a chisel, or a hammer, or _something_. There was no sign of life anywhere.

"This isn't right," I murmured. Then, louder, "Come on. Mason has to be round here somewhere."

But he wasn't. Within a minute, we'd searched the whole village, and found nothing but more painstakingly detailed statues. The last place to search was the only house with the insides carved out: the one where, in the real Zere, we'd found Simona's old nursemaid and the woman named Petra.

When we peered through the doorway, I saw more incredibly detailed statues and the sole other living thing in the village: a small slime.

"No way, this one's even got all the insides carved out properly as well… What's the deal with this place? Someone's left no stone unturned in turning everything to stone…" Stella looked around, and then at Erik. "Hang on, Erik… I'm having a backflash…"

I hid a snort.

"Haven't we seen all this somewhere?" Stella continued, oblivious. "We went somewhere like this a while back. Somewhere with a gimongous tree bang-slap in the middle of town…"

Erik rolled his eyes, but before I could say anything, another voice piped up: the slime's.

"Who are you?" it asked, slurping, and we all looked at it in shock. "What are you going here?"

We looked at each other, and Erik answered, "We were searching for Mr Mason."

The slime brightened up at the name. "Every singoo rock here was carved by Mr Mason, you know," it said. "He did it all on his own. He really stretched himself! It took him years and years to make this village, and then just when he'd finished it, he dropped down dead. What a way to goo!"

The slime was incredibly talkative. I could hardly make out what it was saying, it was talking so quickly. "He was a very frugal man. But in the end he indulged in a gootiful fruit that he'd slupchased in Dourbridge. It was his one extravagoonce ever. Do you know what he told me as he ate it? He said this place was all he had. So it was his wish that it would always remain and never goo squishy. But ever since he gave up the goost, there's –"

A sudden jolt shook the village, but even that didn't made the slime shut up. It squealed and exclaimed, "Th-There it is agoon! I-I've been hearing that petrifying noise ever since!"

Then it hopped away to hide in a corner. I rolled my eyes and moved to the door, caring more about what was going on outside than the slime's terror.

But when we got outside, I realised that it had a bit of an excuse. A tall stone monster was looming outside, yellow eyes gleaming. Stella screeched and flew away, arms and legs flailing.

"Who…are…YOU!?" it demanded in a slow, deep voice that sounded like a rockslide. "You…are…not…Mason… Intruders…!" Its eyes flashed dangerously. "You…will…know…the…wrath…of…Garth…Goyle…Guardian…o f…the…Rocks…!"

"How many unreasonable Guardians does this insignificant little village have?" muttered Erik, and sprang into action. His razor claws made a dreadful scraping noise as he tried to slice into Garth Goyle's rocky skin. I shuddered.

None of our attacks were really useful against him. Even Cristine's and my spells had little effect – wind and ice didn't seem to bother the monster much. Erik's claws looked to be bending. Nick's staff didn't even seem to faze him.

That didn't stop us, of course. Cristine and I both resorted to Hot Lick, and the flames, at least, seemed to cause damage. Nick shifted his focus to healing and preventative measures like Buff. Erik, starkly determined to damage the stone monster even with bent claws, was almost savage in his attacks. He managed once to stab the claws into Garth Goyle's gleaming yellow eyes, causing it to screech in pain and stumbled backwards.

Now it was angry at Erik. Rearing up, it glared at him past the blood dripping from its eyes. I realised what was going to happen and acted unthinkingly, leaping in front of Erik and lashing out with my whip as Garth Goyle brought a heavy stone claw down at his head.

A barrage of emotions flooded though me, and a thought flashed through my head: _Oh, crap. I'm going to die._

And then the claw hit me square on. There was an instant of pain, and then everything went black.

* * *

"Tammy!" shouted Cristine as the minstrel girl leapt in front of Erik. The monster's claw snapped Tammy's whip clean in two, and then continued on to catch her right on her head. Erik caught her as she collapsed. Cristine sent a jet of flame towards Garth Goyle, forcing him back.

Nick immediately went into healer mode, rushing to check Tammy's injuries. It looked bad. Garth Goyle had hit her on top of her head, and the damage hadn't stopped there. There were thick claw marks down her front and gashes in – but fortunately not through – her cuirass.

"Erik, get her back!" he called, whacking his staff into Garth Goyle's leg with all his might. The monster stumbled and fell. Nick and Cristine moved to help Erik.

"We have to get out of here," Cristine said.

Erik glanced at Garth Goyle, at Nick, at Cristine, and finally at Tammy. "I know a way," he said. "Grab hold of my arm."

They did, and he muttered something inaudible. Nick's vision suddenly went black, and he felt like he was being pulled along at tremendous speeds. An instant later, his vision returned, and they were standing just outside of Dourbridge.

Cristine looked at Erik in obvious shock. "How did you –?"

"There is no time," Erik snapped. "Nick, can you heal these?"

Nick looked at the injuries for half a moment and clenched his jaw. "I can certainly try," he said. "But we have to find someplace halfway clean where we can lay her down."

"I know a place," Cristine said. "Come on."

The three of them worked together to manoeuvre the limp Tammy down a ladder, under the bridge, and up a set of stairs to a large tent. It looked like the cleanest thing in town.

"Captain Max," Cristine called as they entered. "Captain Max, do you have a pallet? It's Tammy – she's been through here a few times, you know her – she's injured badly."

The stocky man inside the tent looked around at the four teenagers, seeming bemused. "Yes," he said, "o' course – here." He pulled a mattress out and stepped out of the way as Nick, Erik, and Cristine laid Tammy down on top of it.

"Now," Nick muttered, kneeling down and opening up his satchel. "Let me see…"

He looked at Tammy's injuries again, and then back down at what he had with him. Then he nodded sharply.

"Right," he said. "Magic first, then."

Cristine stayed in place beside the mattress as Nick started working. Erik crouched down several paces away, his face inscrutable. Nick tried to ignore them both as he placed his hands over Tammy's head, where Garth Goyle had first made contact. _Guide my work, Almighty,_ he prayed, and began to heal her.

Gently, he pushed energy out through his palms, feeling for what was damaged and trying to repair it. He focused himself on the inside, knowing that as long as everything vital was in working order, the rest would sort itself out.

"Cristine," he said, not looking up. "Get her cuirass off. It'll get in the way. We need to bandage the claw wounds."

"Got it," Cristine said. Her voice was even quieter than usual. But she set to work, seeming as calm as was possible. Even Erik made himself useful, retrieving bandages from Nick's bag and handing them off to Cristine.

By the time Nick was satisfied that the damage to Tammy's brain was repaired, he was exhausted. He settled back onto his heels and surveyed what still needed to be done.

Her skull seemed to be fractured in several places. The gashes from Garth Goyle's claws were deep and bleeding heavily. They both needed attention, but Nick wasn't convinced he had the energy to deal magically with either issue.

"Cristine," he said again, looking up.

The quiet minstrel glanced away from bandaging her friend's wounds, though she didn't stop working. "Mm?"

"Are you any good at medicinal magic?" He gestured at the gashes and at Tammy's head. "I made sure everything vital was working, but the outside wounds need to be taken care of… I used up a lot of energy repairing her brain. She'll be fine if everything heals on its own, but it'd be much faster if we could at least jump-start the process with a little magic."

Cristine bit her lip, glancing down at Tammy. "I'm not an expert," she said slowly, "but I ought to be able to do a little. What's more pressing?"

Nick made a judgement call. "Her skull," he said. "The bones at least need to be set so that they'll heal properly. If you can do that, we'll be good."

"Okay," Cristine said, setting her jaw determinedly. "I know how everything fits together. You'll keep working on the bandages with Erik?"

Nick nodded, moving out of the way so that Cristine could have easier access to Tammy's head. Erik took Cristine's position beside Tammy, dealing with the bandages as though he'd had years of experience. For what was certainly not the first time, Nick found himself wondering about the silver-haired martial artist. From the way he usually dealt with trouble, it would seem that he was an experienced traveller, yet he hadn't known what Dourbridge was. He was strangely formal, but somehow condescending. And yet that was changing – as the four of them travelled together, he seemed almost to be developing silent respect for Tammy, Cristine, and Nick.

This whole group of people was strange, really, he reflected, silently helping Erik with the bandages. Tammy was antisocial in a way completely different from Erik. The two of them seemed to hate each other most of the time, and yet they seemed similar. And Cristine…

Nick glanced up briefly to see Cristine, hands resting gently on Tammy's head, bright green eyes squeezed shut in concentration. Her brown ringlets were falling over her bare shoulders and down onto her dress. She was quiet, usually cheerful, but there was something almost fragile about her. For some reason, Nick felt protective about her. He was sure she wouldn't like the idea – she was an independent girl, for all her daydreams and femininity – but he felt it nonetheless.

She was quite pretty, he supposed – petite, graceful, slim, with fair skin and a smooth, heart-shaped face... Her big green eyes, usually seeming to be on the verge of a laugh; her figure lithe from dancing and travelling…

And then Nick gave himself a mental shake, trying to banish the unintentional thought train and returning his attention to the task at hand. Someone was injured. It was his job to make sure she healed. It was _not_ his job to daydream about Cristine.

* * *

When Nick declared Tammy well enough for them to leave off healing, Cristine settled back into a crouch, feeling tired. She'd been able to do what she'd needed to and even more, but it had taken its toll. She wasn't an experienced healer. The energy it took to repair someone's body was more immense than she'd expected.

Captain Max agreed to let them stay in his tent while Tammy healed the rest of the way, so while she slept off her injuries, the other three gathered into a small semicircle beside her mattress. Max left them alone. Unlike the other residents of Dourbridge, the old pirate had some sense of when and when not to poke his nose into other people's affairs.

They were all quiet for a minute. Erik was looking at Tammy, expression as inscrutable as always; Nick seemed to be thinking about something; Cristine was torn between concern for Tammy and confidence in Nick's predictions that she'd be fine in a few days. She did trust Nick, a lot; he never pressed her to talk about anything she wasn't ready for, and there was something about him that she just innately felt comfortable about. Maybe it was the fact that he was all but a priest – after all, not trusting a priest was difficult. She didn't know.

She sighed quietly as her thoughts turned towards the fygg things they were gathering. She'd seen enough of them to know that they were dangerous – and that they were probably behind whatever was going on with Mason and that Garth Goyle monster. But she didn't know much about them, really. And, she realised, she was extremely curious.

Looking back at Erik, she bit her lip. Then she said, "Erik…"

He jumped a little and looked at her. "Yes?"

Cristine hesitated, but now that she'd started there wasn't really a way to back out of it. Of course, that didn't mean it came out smoothly.

"It just… I, er… I was wondering… What is it that's so special about those fygg things? Why are they so important?"

Now it was Erik's turn to hesitate. "It…it is as I told you," he said. "I was asked to retrieve them by an old acquaintance of mine."

"Yeah, but why?" Nick asked. "Cristine's not the only curious one. Those things seem dangerous. What are they?"

Erik almost seemed a little flustered. "They… I do not… Wait," he said. "I…I will explain once Tammy awakens." He frowned. "If that is my only option."

"I think it will be," Cristine said. "You have to understand, Erik, we'll help you whether you tell us or not, but I at least want to know what it is we're risking our lives to find. Tammy's already paying for all of this." She cast a worried glance at her friend, who was lying still on the mattress. At least she knew why – Nick had given her a potion that would help her to sleep while she recovered a bit more thoroughly.

"Very well," Erik said, looking at Tammy himself. Then he pushed up off the floor. "I will return before she wakes."

And he left the tent.

* * *

I woke up slowly, feeling sluggish. My head ached and my midsection hurt, too. But, considering the damage I remembered sustaining, that seemed like practically nothing.

I decided to open my eyes to see where I'd ended up. Above me, I saw peach and mauve cloth, held up by slim wooden poles. _Ah. Captain Max._

"Tammy! You're awake!" exclaimed Cristine. I blinked and sat up. Cristine, Nick, and Erik were sitting beside me. Erik had something on his lap.

"Er, yeah," I said. "Why? Have I been out all that long?"

Nick shrugged. "Depends what you mean by long. It's about noon."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really?" I asked. "I would have thought it had been longer."

Nick laughed. "Noon on Tuesday," he told me.

"Oh. You could have told me that in the first place." I tried to do the math. It couldn't have been much later than eleven o'clock yesterday morning that we had encountered Garth Goyle. _Jeez. Why do I keep sleeping for so long?_

Then I swallowed. "What…did anyone happen to see what happened to my whip?"

Cristine bit her lip. That was all the confirmation I needed.

"Darn it," I muttered, slumping forwards. It was stupid, but I felt sad about it breaking. I'd had that thing for five years, and it had never once let me down.

"Sorry, Tammy," Cristine said. "But I think Erik got you something."

I blinked and looked at him in surprise. "Huh?"

"Er, yes," Erik said, fidgeting slightly. "This."

He handed me the long, cloth-wrapped bundle that had been on his lap. I took it and unwrapped part of the cloth to reveal a red-and-gold hilt. My eyes went wide.

"A cautery sword?" I asked, incredulous. "Erik, I… Not to sound ungrateful, but…er…why?"

He rolled his eyes. "The very essence of gratitude," he said, but he didn't sound as offended as I'd have thought. He was almost smiling. "I feel that you would be more effective if you did not keep yourself at such distance."

I blinked and looked at him. But he didn't seem to realise that those words seemed to echo what Aegil had told me both times I'd been to the Faerie forest. _Of course not. How could he – I never told him! I never told anyone._

"Right," I said. "I… Thanks, Erik." I bit my lip. "Is it going to sound really rude if I tell you that I'm not sure we could have afforded to buy something like this?"

"Jeez, Tammy!" laughed Cristine. "It's a gift. Relax a little!"

I smiled. "You're right, I suppose," I said. "Thanks again. I won't say another word, I promise."

"I should hope not," Erik said. I rolled my eyes at him pointedly. He snorted. Cristine, Nick, and I laughed.

Then Nick cleared his throat. "Right, then," he said, looking at Erik. "Now that she's awake…I think it's time you explained about the fyggs."

"Ah," said Erik uncomfortably, "yes. The fyggs." He glanced at me, and I knew what he was trying to say: _if I am to tell them about me, you are to do the same about yourself. _I swallowed and nodded.

It was time for some secrets to be revealed.

* * *

So, hi again! I guess things can get done quickly...the weather hasn't been all that May-like this weekend, so staying inside is no hardship. And working on this story is a lot easier than trying to get through writer's block on my next original one!

Anyway, I really hope you don't hate me for leaving the chapter off here. I know I don't always like it when that happens, but I can at least understand why - sometimes the cliff edge is the best place to leave something. But don't worry, things will sort themselves out. I can't wait to see the reactions Nick and Cristine will have to this!

Til next week (I hope it's not longer!): may all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	10. Chapter 10

"SO LET ME get this straight," Nick said, massaging his temples. "_You_ –" he looked at me – "can see ghosts, faeries, and other things people normally can't, you can sense emotions, and you think your mum was one of the old Faerie. And _you_ –" which was directed at Erik – "are a Guardian, a Celestrian, and you and these fygg things fell down from the Observatory during that big earthquake a few weeks back."

"Not even mentioning your supposed little faerie friend," Cristine added.

Erik snorted. "_Friend_ is a bit of an overstatement," he said. "She has only stayed with us thus far by forcing her presence upon us and having just enough good sense to know what would push me to the point of murdering her so as to make her stop talking."

I didn't do a very good job of hiding my laughter at that. Not as though it mattered – Stella hadn't come back to Dourbridge with us. I was almost worried about her up there with Garth Goyle, but I figured she'd be fine. Knowing Stella, she could probably destroy the monster just by being her normal babbling self.

Nick was still rubbing at his temples. Cristine was looking from me to Erik and back again. I was suddenly seized by guilt. _I should have told her before. Almighty, don't let her hate me for never having told her all this…_

"Cristine…" I murmured.

"Mm?"

I fidgeted. "Sorry…sorry I didn't tell you. Before, I mean." I looked down. "I guess I haven't been much of a friend."

"Haven't I already told you not to say stuff like that?" Cristine asked. I looked up to see that she was smiling a little. "It doesn't matter to me, Tammy. Whether I knew or not, you were still going to be my best friend. Besides –" her smile grew, becoming the familiar cheerful beam – "I always knew you were a freak. Now I just know the reason."

She reached out and hugged me gingerly, being careful of my bandages. I returned the hug, feeling my guilt abate a little. There were still things I was holding back, but they weren't important. Not potentially friendship-ruining like what I'd just told her. And, I realised, having her know was a huge relief. It was like a weight had been lifted off me, one I hadn't even known was there until now.

"Thank you, Cristine…"

There was a long moment while we hugged when no one talked. When we finally broke apart, Nick cleared his throat. Cristine, Erik and I all looked at him. He'd left off rubbing his temples, but he still had a hand to his head.

"This is crazy," he said, looking at us. "You know that, right?"

I laughed. "Yeah."

"All right," he said. "As long as you all know it, too. I can deal with that." He paused. "So what are we going to do about Garth Goyle?"

"The fygg is there with him," Erik said immediately. "We must retrieve it. I do not know how, exactly, with Mason being dead, but in every case so far the fyggs have done surprising things. Defeating Garth Goyle would be the first step in retrieval, I believe."

"How?" Cristine asked. "He nearly killed Tammy last time."

I shook my head. "We weren't prepared," I said. "I was careless. As long as we know we'll be in for a fight, we ought to be good. Besides, now we know what sort of things will hurt it." I smiled. "And much as I'd like to protest any gifts, the cautery sword is probably one of the best weapons we could have on our side against Garth Goyle. I don't think fire and statues mix."

With that, I buckled my new sword around my waist and rose.

"Oh, no, you don't," Nick said, getting up as well. "You're not healed yet. There's no way you're going to make it up that mountain and still be good for a fight. I doubt you'd be good just for the fight right now."

"I can deal. Trust me," I said, and grinned. "Just ask Cristine – when have I ever let something like a life-threatening injury slow me down?"

Cristine laughed. Erik rolled his eyes. "That is not necessarily a sign of strength," he said. "I am still questioning your sanity from the Coffinwell incident."

"But I survived."

Another eye-roll. "Only because I knocked the blood and phlegm out of your throat when you choked on it."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "You won't have to this time."

Nick's hand was back at his face, but I could see him smiling. "Anyway," he said pointedly. "Tammy, I appreciate your determination, but you really do need to heal more if you're going to hike back up the Heights of Loneliness. It's hard work."

I made a face, but I knew he was right. Maybe I could hold my own in a fight – definitely if I was fighting alongside Nick, Erik, and Cristine – but the trek up to Zere Rocks was another story entirely. It was bad enough when I was perfectly healthy. My headache was gone, but my scratches still hurt.

"Hiking may not be the only option," Erik said suddenly. We all looked at him. "The spell I used to bring us back after Tammy was injured – I am able to use it to bring us to any place I have been before. Zere Rocks ought not to be much challenge."

Nick hesitated, torn between healer's instincts and the desire to get the fygg. But in the end, the fygg won out.

"Okay," he said. "We'll go up to Zere Rocks the quick way. But if you start to feel at all tired, I want you to get out of the way and let us finish the fight. I don't want to have to heal you again."

I grinned. "Agreed."

"Let us go, then," Erik said, rising and turning to leave in one fluid motion. I rolled my eyes good-naturedly as we followed him out of the tent, waving goodbye to Captain Max. _I suppose leopards really don't change their spots…_

One frightening, blind, spell-whirlwind ride later, we were back at the top of Zere Rocks. My heart was pounding. My head was spinning, too, and it had started aching again. But I didn't complain. I knew that if I did, Nick would send me right back down the mountain to wait it out until they'd beaten Garth Goyle.

We took the short way back to the monster, pausing on the near side of the stone stream bed, across from where it waited, yellow eyes gleaming.

"Where…is…my…master…?" it growled, glaring at us. "You….are…mot…Mason… Leave…this…place…intruders…. Leave…or…die…!"

"How about neither?" I asked, and thrust the cautery sword out in front of me. I grinned as flames roared out of the stone in the pommel and engulfed Garth Goyle, making it a black silhouette against the flickering heat. But something seemed wrong. Last time the flames had just seemed to damage it a bit, but this time it looked like its shape was expanding.

My eyes went wide. "Oh, no," I said, and grabbed Erik's arm since he was closest. "Everyone, behind a shield! I think it's gonna explode!"

I lifted my shield above Erik's and my heads, while Nick did the same for him and Cristine. We peered around the edges as I kept the flames going and Garth Goyle's stony body kept expanding.

There were groans filling the air, and I didn't think they were coming from its mouth. The stone was moaning and expanding, stretching beyond the point I thought was possible. Then there was a groaning voice from within the flames: "St…St…Stone…me…!"

And finally, with an almighty, earth-shattering _boom_, the heat and pressure became too much and Garth Goyle exploded. I yanked my sword arm back behind the shield and dropped into a crouch, trying to cover as much of Erik and me as possible with my shield. A sudden jolt in the air around me made me jump. I struggled to hold the shield up as stones battered down on it and flames roared outwards, coming within half a metre of where Erik and I crouched, terrified, behind the shield. My skin felt like it was crisping from the heat. The sound of rocks hitting the earth and the shields and the stone around us was deafening. My arm hurt from holding the shield steady against the rapidly changing pressure.

After what felt like forever but was probably only about half a second, the fire burnt itself out and the last of the rock shards fell to the ground with dull _thunk_s. I straightened slowly, keeping the shield up just in case.

Then I lowered the shield and looked around. Chunks of rock littered the ground, some tiny, some big enough that I thanked the Almighty they hadn't hit my shield. Beside me, Erik, Cristine, and Nick were looking around too. But among all the things scattered around the stone village, a big, scary stone monster wasn't one of them. Garth Goyle was lying in pieces on the ground.

"Well," Cristine said. "That was…unexpected."

I laughed shakily.

"You think?" asked Nick.

Stella fluttered over from behind the hollow house, where she must have been hiding. "Huh?" she said. "What the flap was that…? It didn't half give me the woollies! I'm all itchy now."

I rolled my eyes. Even now, the faerie's mouth was unstoppable.

Then I saw something much more interesting: Mason's ghostly figure materialising by a set of down-leading stairs.

Erik saw it, too. Ignoring Stella, he headed straight after Mason, who had glided down the stairs without a word.

"Mason's ghost," I said, glancing at Cristine and Nick. "He went down those stairs." I pointed. "You can stay up here if you like, but I'm going after him."

Then I hurried away, clumping down the stairs. Mason had stopped on top of a stone box – probably a coffin.

"I owe you an apology," he said sheepishly. "Looks like that guardian fellow appeared when I ate that funny fruit and made a wish for my work to be kept safe. But that wasn't what I meant by keeping it safe at all…"

I glanced back at the sound of feet coming down the stairs. Cristine and Nick joined us by the coffin.

"Where is he?" Cristine whispered.

I nodded towards the softly glowing shape on top of the coffin. Cristine and Nick looked up at it, though I noticed neither of them managed to look exactly at Mason.

Mason smiled at them. "Anyway, thank you," he said. "Now my little friend can relax again at last." He started glowing brighter, and I felt a pang of longing. "I couldn't go back there, so I recreated my beautiful, lost hometown here in Zere Rocks. This place is just a replica, you see. The dream of an old fool who hoped he could bring back his lost love. Now, Petra, lass…" He smiled sadly, and looked up at the rocky ceiling of the corridor. I bit my lip and struggled to keep my face looking normal. The sadness wasn't all Mason's. Most of what I felt from him was that same gentle, beautiful emotion. No, the sadness was mine. Because once again, I was feeling that emotion, and it wasn't mine. It wasn't meant to be shared with me. And even though it was beautiful then, I knew it was just going to leave an even bigger hole when it disappeared.

"Now I can come home to you at last… To my hometown of Zere."

I couldn't look away, even though the brightness hurt my eyes. I stood there and watched as Mason's spirit went to the light, taking his beautiful emotion with him. And then the glow vanished, and I was left with the imprint blocking my vision and the emotion echoing emptily inside of my heart.

* * *

We reached Bloomingdale at about three thirty with another fygg in our hands. I'd pulled myself together on the walk down from Zere Rocks and had managed to act normal. And, to my surprise, it had actually helped a little. Maybe I wasn't feeling it like I had when I'd encountered the emotion in others, but something about the simple pleasure of being with my friends – and Erik – reminded me of it, a little. And it was better this time, because the emotion actually was meant for me to share.

Bloomingdale was a busy port town, bright and full of people from all over the world. The sounds of conversation and trade flew over our heads and across merchant's booths, mixing with the calls of the seagulls and the crashing of waves against the harbour wall. I smiled. I loved this place.

Cristine glanced longingly at some of the wares the merchants had out for sale. "I wish we had a bit more money," she murmured. "I doubt I'd buy anything, but it would be nice."

Erik had paused and was examining a Tussler's top and the matching trousers. I bit my cheek meditatively.

"Well," I said then, "we could earn some. As I've seen so far, there are plenty of people, but no minstrels aside from Cristine and me."

Cristine's eyes brightened. "And I'm sure a bit of entertainment would be appreciated!"

I grinned and looked at the boys. "Would either of you be willing to help? It would be a huge relief if I was allowed to sing soprano for once instead of struggling with tenor."

Nick raised his eyebrows. "You're a soprano?"

"Yeah," I said. "But I've had to develop a lower range, too. Cristine's an alto, but she's more girlish, so we usually end up with her playing the girl if there's one of each."

"Somehow, I do not see how that works," Erik said. "I would think that if either of you sang naturally in the higher range, it would be Cristine.

Cristine shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "That's just how it worked out. So?" she asked then. "Who wants to help?"

"I do not perform," Erik said, seeming uncomfortable just with the idea.

"I've never even tried," Nick admitted.

"Doesn't mean you're no good," I said. "What d'you reckon? Want to give a song or two a practise go before you try anything in public?"

Nick hesitated, and then shrugged. "Why not?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "Just don't kill me if I'm terrible."

I laughed. "Don't worry," Cristine said. "I won't let her." She smiled. "We can hide out in the inn while we're practising. I'm sure no one will mind."

So, we soon found ourselves at a table in the common room of the Flowery Beds, Bloomingdale's large inn. Cristine had announced that she would play the flute to go along with mine and Nick's singing, if I'd do the same for her when she danced; Erik was just sitting there, clearly uncomfortable in the little world of performance we'd started creating. I rolled my eyes at him. "You know, if you don't want to deal with this, you can find some other way of earning money."

"I would not even know where to begin," he muttered, folding his arms and looking away.

I rolled my eyes again and turned my attention to Nick. "So, do you know any songs?"

He shrugged. "A few," he said. "Mostly ballads."

"Any duets?" I asked. "I know loads, but it'd be easier if you knew one beforehand – less rehearsal, you know."

"Erm…" He looked away, thinking. Then he smiled and looked back at me. "Well, I know one…"

I supposed the market was an all-day thing, because when we headed out of the inn to start performing that evening, there were still loads of people out and about. Erik left as we reached the little place we'd agreed on for the performance. "I am going to search for Bloomingdale's Guardian," he said. "And then perhaps I shall seek out the ship that the man from Porth Llaffan spoke of. It could be quite useful to have access to a ship of our own."

"All right," I said. "We'll either be here or at the inn, I suppose. Or maybe not." I made a face. "With the number of people there are here today, it might be a better plan to bivouac outside the city."

Cristine laughed. "What, scared all those people are going to trigger your little Faerie instincts?"

I stuck my tongue out at her. "Yes, yes I am," I said. "That and I don't fancy our odds of being able to find even one room if all these merchants are staying in town."

"Well," Erik said, clapping his hands uncomfortably. "I shall be off, then. Good luck."

"You don't say good luck, you say break a leg!" I called after him. He raised an arm in acknowledgement and didn't turn.

Cristine laughed. "It's funny how you think he cares."

"Shut up," I replied, grinning. "Come on. I think it's time to bring a bit of entertainment to the market!"

We set up quickly. There wasn't a balcony this time, but a small wooden bench would do the trick. Cristine pulled out the flute and began to play a few notes to warm up while Nick and I did the same, running through the scales a few times. It served the dual purpose of getting everyone ready to perform and attracting a bit of a crowd. Cristine and I had learnt that quickly.

When we were all ready, Cristine started playing the introduction. I leapt onto the bench and began to pace. Nick paused about a metre away from the bench.

And when I heard my cue, I began to sing.

It was "Marianne and Robert" again, but it felt a little odd singing Marianne's part. Even so, I knew the piece better than I did the back of my own hand. Cristine's playing helped me keep time. And Nick's voice really wasn't bad at all. He had the song memorised, which surprised me a little. It was quite long. But he did it well, and even the leap and the stage kiss at the end – which was, in my experience, the hardest part – went without a hitch. We pulled back up and bowed. I was smiling again.

Cristine and I changed places and Nick moved off to the side. I had a fairly simple tune in mind to play along with Cristine's dancing, but when I put the flute to my lips, that wasn't what came out. Instead, it was the song that went along with the beautiful emotion.

I didn't know where it had come from – some sort of subconscious trick or something, I supposed. And it wasn't nearly as rich as it had been in my head. But I ignored that and decided to play on. After all, I knew the tune – the music that I'd heard never really faded. It was always there in the back of my mind.

As I played, I glanced over at Nick. He was watching Cristine dance, blue eyes following every motion of her little lithe body. I looked back at Cristine and saw her through the emotions Nick was seeing her with. It was heightened by the music – which, simplified as it was, still somehow carried that strange feeling I longed for so much – but I could tell that a lot of it was Nick's. _Wow, _I thought. _How did I not see that before?_

Nine days wasn't a long time. Things like that were far removed from anything I knew about except through stories, songs, and empathy. But I thought maybe, just maybe, nine days was enough to start liking someone. _Really_ liking someone. I almost smiled, and then realised it was a bad idea if I wanted to keep playing. So I kept my little bit of happiness to myself and let the song play on.

At the end, Cristine curtsied and smiled at the applause. As she joined Nick and me over to the side, she asked, "Where in the world did you learn that song? It was beautiful."

"I heard it," I said. "For most of my life, the empathy thing manifested in music. And the songs always got stuck in my head. So I guess I just…felt like playing one."

Cristine smiled. "Well, whatever emotion it was, I hope I feel it like that sometime," she said. "If it's that beautiful in a song…"

"Yeah." I sighed inaudibly. She had no idea how much I wished the same thing.

Then I shook myself and said, "All right. Shall we pack up for the night or stay a bit longer? I've got a few stories I could tell if we hang around."

Cristine glanced over at the crowd, who were looking at us with interest. "I think we could stay here a bit longer," she said. "They still look pretty eager."

"Let's hear a story," Nick said, and grinned. "Cristine and I will sit by listening like a couple five-year-olds."

I smiled. "Okay," I said, and walked back out into the clear area serving as our stage. Then I turned to face the audience.

"This is an old, old story from the part of the world where I grew up," I said. "There're few enough who know the full details, and those who do generally aren't willing to share. But I can assure you that every word is true." As I spoke, I felt myself start to drawl a bit, the Coffinwell-like accent I'd picked up over the past few years fading back into what I'd grown up with. I hadn't recited this story since before I'd left home, but I still remembered every word.

Now I had the audience's attention. I repressed a smile as I began the story.

"It was three hundred years ago now, and the world was deep under the oppression of the mighty Gittish Empire. Most were too terrified to fight back. But there were areas of resistance. One of those places was the village of Upover, set on the side of the Magmaroo, a great volcano. If any other place had been so outspoken against the Gittish Empire, they would have been destroyed immediately, but Upover was so far away that only the faintest of rumours reached the ears of those few in the empire who had true power. And so for many years – generations – the people of Upover were able to resist without fear of punishment.

"This made them grow bold, and eventually the emperor grew tired of it. Knowing that such an outspoken place as Upover would have to be completely obliterated in order to quiet it, he sent out the most feared of all the empire's warriors: Barbarus, the dragon of darkness."

The sun had sunk low enough that the only lights now were coming from the bonfires that had started up around the city. A flash of silver reflecting the firelight caught my eye for a second, and I blinked in acknowledgement as Erik inclined his head my direction and then joined Nick and Cristine over to the side.

"The Upoverians received no warning. Barbarus could fly faster than even the quickest of messengers could travel. And so when, in the middle of the night, the dark dragon came upon the village, there was no way to prepare.

"Half of Upover was destroyed the first time the black dragon passed over, obliterated by the dark flames and black magic that the king had given Barbarus himself. Men and women, young and old, those who were openly rebellious and those who were more quiet about it – all were killed without discrimination. Those who survived escaped into the network of tunnels on the inside of the Magmaroo.

"For weeks they struggled to survive inside of the mountain's fiery belly. They knew that Barbarus was waiting for those who ventured outside – he made no secret of the fact that he was still there, roaring and belching flame at every opportunity. Only a few were brave enough to leave in search of the resources the villagers desperately needed. Some never made it back. The people of Upover were brave, but they knew that against a dragon, they would have no chance. So they were forced to remain inside the Magmaroo while the threats of dehydration, starvation, and heatstroke pursued them from every side.

"Finally, as even the most determined of the Upoverians were nearly ready to admit defeat, there arose from within their number the most outspoken of all against the Gittish Empire: Greygnarl, a young warrior fond of the drink and of the skies.

"He rallied the defeated Upoverians, fiery passion in his every word against the Gitts. Together with the best minds of the village, he devised a plan to throw Barbarus from his reign of terror atop the Magmaroo and win the village back.

"The next day, he left the tunnels alone and roared at Barbarus to come down from his lofty perch and do battle. Enraged by the villagers' insolence, Barbarus did just that. He tried to destroy Greygnarl, but the warrior's white armour and piercing blades allowed him to fight back as none ever had before. And then finally, as the battle brought them to the very peak of the Magmaroo, Greygnarl delivered a death blow to the black dragon, who fell down into the crater and was utterly destroyed in the lava deep within.

"Disheartened by the loss of its most fearsome warrior, the Gittish Empire never returned to Upover. Greygnarl became known as the Hero of the Heavens as his battle against the dark dragon became legend, and he led the people to overthrow the Gittish Empire.

I looked out over the faces of the crowd, light dimly in the flickering light of the bonfires. I knew that the light must have made my face look just as dim and strange, and I smiled slightly. That would help with this next part.

"This," I said, "is when the stories start to diverge. All agree that Greygnarl never became a king. Some say that, valued too much for his fighting skills, he became a military leader rather than a political one. Others say that he was killed in the final battle with the Gittish Empire, for if a leader could take them as far as he had, why would he not become king when the battles were won? I've heard versions where Greygnarl lives but chooses to return to Upover and live out his days there with his people…and his favourite drink, a potent brew called Drunken Dragon." I smiled and knew that it would have an eerie effect in the flickering firelight.

"And then there are the stories that say that Greygnarl lives still, and that his home is on top of the Magmaroo, the same place where he defeated Barbarus all those years ago. These are the stories that have endured the longest and the ones that are most told back where I come from. Maybe it's not possible. No one can live for three hundred years, after all. But then again, this world is a strange place. You never know quite what's possible and what's not until you've seen it with your own eyes." I smiled wider, exposing my teeth. "Just a little food for thought."

I bowed and stepped away as scattered applause began. Cristine grinned. "Nice story," she said. "I hadn't heard that one before."

"That's because I haven't told it before," I replied. "Waiting for the right time, I suppose." I grinned. "And I think it went pretty well. Dusk is a good time for it."

The crowd was starting to disperse. I heard clinking as some coins were passed our way. There were a few muted whispers about the story – I distinctly caught the words "Greygnarl" and "three hundred years" several times. We gathered up our stuff and left to set up camp outside the city.

"But do you believe it is true?" Erik asked as we set up.

I shrugged. "Do I believe in a hero named Greygnarl who led a revolution against the Gittish Empire?" I asked. "Yes. Do I believe he defeated Barbarus all on his lonesome and is still alive on top of the Magmaroo today?" I shrugged again. "Dunno. A week and a half ago I would have said no. But I've found that my capacity for belief has stretched a little – you know, what with Celestrians and all these faeries running about the place." I grinned. "That story gives me just as much food for thought as it does the audience."

But as we lay down, Greygnarl's story wasn't the only thing I was thinking about. The emotions I'd felt Nick having towards Cristine lay heavily on my mind as well, and my wondering if I would ever feel anything like that myself.

That night, I didn't visit the Faerie wood in my dreams, but I heard Aegil's voice in the blackness of sleep.

**Believe.**

* * *

Fi-ii-iinally! Okay, now I feel really awful...prepare yourselves for excuses.

These past three weeks have been absolutely hectic at school. One week I had work after school. One week I had to take time _off_ of work so I could get all of my school stuff done. Everything was due the very last week of school. Please, somebody tell me how that makes any sense at all! And in addition to all that, the crap-tastic school computers they lend to us had to be returned, so I couldn't do any work on this story without being afraid I'd loose it all when I turned in the computer. So all in all, I've had a very productive three weeks - just not in the things I'd actually like to be doing.

But on the positive side, it's all over! Yesterday was our last day of school for the year, so I'm giving a big, rousing "hello!" to summer holiday! We've got a couple weeks' down time before we start doing any heavy travelling, so even though I'm sure I'll have work, I'll also have loads more time to write. Even when we travel, I find time - I learnt that working on _The Mortal Sentinel _last holiday. And this time I'm just playing through the game, not going through and having to write out all the game dialogue before I can write the chapter to go along with it. I'm sure my hand appreciates not being achy and smeared with pencil lead!

Til next time then (may it not be nearly so long!), may all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	11. Chapter 11

SINCE WE FINALLY had enough money, we spent the next morning wandering around the market and looking at the wares. Erik bought the Tussler's top and trousers he had been looking at the day before, as well as a new set of claws to replace the ones he'd bent up fighting Garth Goyle the first time round. Cristine bought a tortoiseshell fan. Nick found a watermaul wand. Everyone but me got shoes at a little shop by the church – starlet sandals for Cristine, kung fu shoes for Erik, and frugal footwear for Nick. I toyed with the idea of buying the pair of acroboots I found, but decided that my rubber boots were still good.

As we left the shoe shop, I glanced at Erik. "So, did you find who you were looking for yesterday?"

"Mm?" he asked, looking at me. "Oh. No." His brow furrowed. "It worries me. I have seen no Guardians at all since my fall, except for Cygnus back in Stornway. It seems that many more have fallen than Apus Major made out."

I bit my lip. "That doesn't sound good."

Erik shook his head.

Nick looked off and ran a hand through his hair. Finally, he sighed and looked back at us. "Well, I don't know what to do about that," he said, "but I think the next step for all of this is to find another fygg. Did you find out anything about that ship?"

"That I _did _have luck with," Erik said, nodding. "It belongs to a Marion Bloome, who lives in the mansion up there." He gestured towards the big mansion in the northern part of town. "The ship's warden said that as it is not being used, Ms Bloome will likely allow us to have it."

Cristine smiled. "Well, at least something about all this will be simple," she said. "Let's head over and have a chat with Ms Bloome!"

The doorman was quite willing to let us in when Erik mentioned the ship's warden. A right turn and a walk down a short, opulent corridor brought us to the door to Marion's parlour. Inside, a young woman with curly blonde hair and blue eyes, who I took to be Marion, was sitting on a small couch. She was talking to a man and a woman.

"Good day to you both," Marion was saying, smiling sweetly. "What fun have you in store for me today?"

The man straightened importantly. "Well, Marion – Ahem! I mean, Ms Bloome… I thought something sweet would be nice." He moved closer, holding out a cake that looked absolutely delicious. "So I've baked you this delicious strawberry sponge cake. I do hope you like it." He handed it to her, beaming.

But Marion seemed a little confused. "A spun…cake…?" she murmured, looking down at it. "A…gunge…cake…?" Then she shook her head and smiled up at the man. "Ah, thank you," she said. "Yes, I shall have it set in one of our finest vases and put on display."

Cristine, Nick, Erik and I exchanged glances. _What…?_

"On dis…?" asked the man. "Erm, Ms Bloome… It's a cake, not a… I mean… Ahem! Yes, yes! Of course. As you wish."

I raised my eyebrows. But then the woman interrupted.

"Marion, Marion!" she said impatiently. "Don't you want to know what I've got for you?"

Marion turned away from the man. "What is it?"

The woman walked forwards, smiling. "Well, we girls prefer clothes to fatty old foods, don't we? And you're always wearing the same old ribbon, so I got you a new one!" She held it out, still smiling.

Marion touched the red ribbon tied around her curls. Then, quietly, she said, "I don't want it."

The woman blinked. "What?" she asked. "B-But…What? Why!? It's really prett –"

"If I say I don't want something, I don't want it!" Marion said angrily. "My ribbon is the same as my one true friend's. It's perfect in every way. I shan't just replace it with something else. No! No, no, no! Get out of my sight! I want nothing more to do with you!" She looked away, folding her arms.

"B-But I… I…" spluttered the woman, nonplussed.

But Marion had spotted us outside the door and seemed to have forgotten all about the woman. "Who are you?" she asked. "Are you a new friend?"

We glanced at each other. "I, er, I hope so," Cristine said, and led the way in. She smiled at Marion, who smiled back.

"Pleased to meet you," she said. "We…haven't met before, have we?"

Cristine shook her head. "Ms Bloome, we were hoping to ask you a favour," she said then. "We heard about the ship in the harbour and how it didn't have anyone who was using it. And we, er, we need a way to get around. Would you mind terribly much…?"

"Hm? My ship?" Marion asked. "You'd like my ship?"

We nodded.

"Certainly," Marion said, shrugging. "You can have it. Take it away with you. Go wherever you please. All I ask is that you let me be your frien…"

Her eyes fell on Erik, and she trailed off, scrutinising him. Then her eyes went wide and she pushed herself back.

"You're… You're not the same as the others…" she whispered. "You've come for Marion, haven't you?"

Erik blinked. "Come for… What do you mean? I have not come for anyone –"

"Liar!" Marion yelled. I jumped. The pretty young woman had a set of lungs on her. "I know you have. You've come here for Marion. Well I won't let you! No, no, no! I hate you! You're not my friend. I take it back. You can't have my ship. Get out!"

"Really, Ms Bloome," said the man soothingly. "There's no need to get so angry."

"Yes, let's all kiss and make up!" said the woman eagerly. "We can make up, can't we, Marion?"

Marion shook her head angrily. "No, no, no!" she said again. "I hate you! All of you! Get out! Get out, get out, get out! GET OUT!"

That last yell left my ears ringing.

"Dear me!" stuttered the man. "Un-Until tomorrow, then, Ms Bloome… Bye-bye!"

He and the woman scarpered. I heard the front door slam behind them as they left the house.

Marion glared at Erik and ran through the door at the back of the room, slamming it, too.

I blinked. "Well," I said.

"Phew!" exclaimed Stella, popping out from her little pink light form. "What a handful, eh? Any idea why she boiled over like that? She bolted totally out of the blue. I'd tell you not to touch her with a large pole, but if you can't patch things up, we won't get that ship. I wonder if there's anyone around here that knows how to get inside her good books…"

Erik rolled his eyes. "Ms Bloome," he called, striding to the door and trying the knob. Then he frowned. "It is locked."

"Are you surprised?" I asked.

He threw me his signature flat look. I made a face at his back when he looked away. Cristine held a giggle behind her hand.

"Perhaps we ought to speak with someone who knows Marion," Nick suggested. "They might have an idea about how to calm her down."

"Good idea," Cristine said. "Come on. I doubt any of those jokers from the parlour would have any idea, but there's bound to be someone here who really knows her. We could always ask the ship's warden."

"Mm." Erik nodded. "Very well. Let us ask about."

We didn't have to work very hard. As soon as we left the mansion, the woman from the parlour shoved her way past Cristine, Nick, and me and confronted Erik.

"It's all because of what you said to her!" she snapped. "That's why Ms Bloome got so angry. How am I supposed to get by now? Agh! You're going to get you and the rest of us back in her good books, do you hear? Start by asking her old nanny for some advice. She lives in the house just over there." She pointed to a cute little cottage seated next to the mansion. Then she glared at us until we headed that way.

"What a pleasant woman," I said as soon as she was out of earshot. "I can't imagine why someone with such a lovely disposition wouldn't be able to get by. Every employer in town ought to be lining up to offer her a job!"

Erik snorted. "And to think that sarcasm is only one of your many qualities," he said.

I made another face at him.

"Oh, that is attractive."

I grinned. "Is that what you want?"

He let his head fall into his hands. "Almighty…" he muttered.

* * *

Marion's nanny was a sweet old woman who seemed horrified to hear about what had happened. "Goodness me!" she exclaimed. "Are you sure? She's locked herself in her room?"

"Yes, ma'am," Nick said.

"Oh dearie me," said the nanny. "That's an awful worry, but I don't know if I can help. I don't know if she'll want to see me…"

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Ever since she got well, it's like she's a different person," the nanny explained. "She's very hard to handle now. She won't talk to us staff at all. I don't know what…Oh, wait." She held up one thin finger in front of her face. "There is someone she might listen to, I suppose. The toymaker."

Nick, Cristine, Erik and I looked around at each other in confusion. Then Cristine asked, "Why the toymaker?"

The nanny smiled. "He made her a doll, you see, and she absolutely doted on it, bless her. He lives just next to the church. Yes, if Marion's having one of her temper tantrums, I should think the toymaker's our only chance."

* * *

The toymaker, Randolph, was quite willing to help us. And I thought he would be a bit of an asset. As he said, "I don't really know why, but Ms Bloome has always had a soft spot for me. Even when she'd banished the rest of her servants from the house, she would always agree to see me. Why don't we go over and see if I can't coax her out of her room this time."

When we stepped inside the mansion, Randolph looked down the hall and called, "Hellooo! Ms Bloome! It's Randolph!"

There was no response. We followed Randolph down the hall and to the door inside Marion's parlour.

"Marion, are you in there? Whatever is the matter, my dear? You haven't fallen ill again, have you?"

He fiddled with the handle, and then turned to look at us. He was confused. My brow crinkled.

"Well," he said, "the door seems to be unlocked. Perhaps she's gone out somewhere…" He glanced at the door. "I – I'm coming in now, Ms Bloome!"

But there was no one in there except the five of us. I looked around. There wasn't a doll in here, either…

"Well, that's most odd," Randolph said. "There's no sign of Marion or the doll I made her." He looked around for a moment longer. Then his eyes fell on the bed. "Hm?"

He crossed and picked up a piece of paper. "Look at this," he said. "There's a letter on the bed. Well now, let me see…"

We crowded around so we could all get a good look. My eyes went wide.

_We got the girl. If ya wanna see 'er again, you better bring all yer dough to the cave up norf._

Randolph's suddenly limp fingers let the letter fall to the floor as he backed up several paces. "My goodness!" he exclaimed. "Th-This is outrageous! I mean, the spelling is just…"

I raised my eyebrows. Randolph cleared his throat. "Ahem! I mean, we must raise the alarm at once!"

We moved out of the way as he hurried out of the room, calling, "Ms Bloome's been kidnapped! Everyone! Ms Bloome's been kidnapped!"

Then I felt a new presence in the room – someone sad. I looked over to see a ghost standing in front of a little door at the other end of the room. My eyes went wide. "Marion!"

She met my eyes and then turned and walked through the door. She didn't say a word.

I looked around at the others. "Guys, there was a ghost…" I said. "It…it looked like Marion. She went this way." I pointed at the door. "Come on. Something strange is going on here!"

I led the way outside and found myself in a pretty little courtyard. There was no sign of the ghost, but I did see other hallmarks of death: three gravestones.

"What in the world?" murmured Cristine. She moved over to read one of the inscriptions. "'Behind every great man is an even greater woman. In loving memory of a dear mother and a faithful wife.'"

"'In loving memory of a great man, whose rare business talent brought fortune to this blooming dale," Nick read, examining another stone. I stooped to look at the final one.

"'In memory of my one true friend,'" I read. "'May you rest in peace.'"

The four of us exchanged confused looks. Stella popped out and hovered in the air by Erik's shoulder. "That ghost was the splitting image of Marion, don't you think?" she asked. "What d'you reckon's going on? You don't think something's happened to Little Miss Moneybags, do you?"

"She is my one true friend…"

Erik, Stella, and I all jumped at hearing Marion's voice. "Aah!" Stella shrieked, and I winced. "It's her!"

The ghost Marion materialised on top of the headstone and curtsied to us. "I am Marion Bloome," she said. "This is my resting place. The girl… The poor who has been kidnapped is my doll, Marionette. My precious Marionette, who was given life by that mysterious fruit…"

Erik and I looked at each other. _Not another fygg…_

Then I felt a shock of cold as Marion touched my arm. She knew we could help. She wanted everyone to get the message as close to first-hand as possible…

Marion sat on a bed. Marionette sat limply beside her. Marion's voice echoed through my head and I felt my mouth moving.

"I wasn't like the other children," she said. "I couldn't play freely outside. Marionette was my one and only companion. She was everything to me. We played together every day. I was really very happy, but…"

I felt a hacking cough shake my whole body.

"As my condition worsened, I knew that it wouldn't be long before the Celestrians came to take me away. And then, one day…"

An image of the fygg. I knew what had happened.

"One of the servants brought me a mysterious fruit that was thought to heal all ills." Marion held the fruit in her hands. "It was a beautiful, golden colour like the sun. But it was too late for me. I had already given up hope by that point. I was sure that my life was already over. That nothing could save me, not even that fruit…"

Marion looked at Marionette sadly. "Look, Marionette, isn't it pretty?" she asked. Her words travelled out through my mouth. "It looks just like a star the way it sparkles, doesn't it? And it smells…mmm…delicious! Why don't you eat it with me? I'd like to share it with you." She bowed her head. "Just imagine, Marionette… Imagine if you could walk and talk just like I can. I would be so happy. If only you could come to life so I could have just one true friend before I…"

I felt myself being racked with coughs as Marion was seized by a fit of the things. The fygg fell from her hands and landed on Marionette's lap. There was a bright flash. Marionette raised her head, blinked, and looked at Marion.

"You are Marion?" she said. "You are my friend."

Marion and I gaped in wordless shock.

Marionette rose and curtsied. "I'm so happy to be able to speak to you at last!"

"M-Marionette!" stammered Marion. "You're…You're really…!"

She coughed again, and I could feel how frail she was.

"But why now…?" she whispered. "J-Just when…I am… It's not…fair…"

Marionette reached out and took Marion's hand. "What do you mean?"

Marion looked at her sadly. "I… I am…" She bit her lip. "Marionette, I leave everything that I own to you. All that is mine is now yours. I…give you my life. If people realise that you're a doll, they, they won't let you stay here. You must pretend to be me."

She looked down and closed her eyes. Her thin body was trembling. "I hope…you have a happy life…as Marion… Life the life that…that I could not…"

My vision faded as Marion gasped out a final sentence.

"Make…lots…of friends…as I…never…could…"

And then Marion spoke again, but her voice was stronger. This was the ghost. "Marionette made this secret grave for me so that no one would realise that she wasn't me."

Suddenly Marion's presence vanished from my mind, and I gasped as my eyes snapped open. The ghost was pulling her hand away from my arm. Nick, Cristine, and Erik were looking at me in shock.

"Noble Celestrian…" Marion said, and I was relieved to find that my mouth didn't move. "It is all my own doing. I am the only one to blame. Please, don't punish Marionette for this." She dematerialised, but her voice stuck around. "Kind Celestrian… Please, help Marionette. Help my one true friend…"

Her voice faded into silence that didn't last long. "Let me get this straight…" Stella said. "One of those fyggs has turned a lifeless little doll into a moody little madam? Now I've heard it all! Still, you can't really turn a blind ear to a cry for help like that can you, 'noble Celestrian'?" She nudged him, grinning, and then did a fist pump. Erik glared at her, but she didn't notice. "Chop, chop, then!" she cheered. "Get to work! You've got a doll to deliver from the crutches of doom!"

She popped back into nothingness, but we didn't move out right away. I fidgeted as I realised that everyone was still looking at me.

"Right," Erik said after a long moment. "Let us go and rescue Marionette."

As we left the courtyard behind, I realised that the others – even Cristine – were walking a little further from me than usual. I felt a pang.

How was I ever supposed to forget my loneliness with these bloody powers pushing me further into it?


	12. Chapter 12

WE DECIDED TO stop and formulate a plan instead of rushing in blindly. None of us wanted to pay the ransom; we knew it probably wouldn't really save Marionette. Erik suggested going in and fighting whoever had taken Marionette, but the rest of us put that idea down quickly.

"We don't know how many there are," Nick pointed out. "Or how big they are. One or two we could handle, but who knows? And I'm fine with killing monsters, but I draw a sharp line far before that with people, even kidnappers."

"Fair enough," Erik said.

Cristine was resting her chin on her hand, drumming her fingers on the tabletop. Slowly, she said, "Well, we've got about…what is it, a couple hundred gold among us?" she asked. "If we just…brought it, and said it was for the ransom, we could probably get Marionette, grab the coins back, and run before they realised we'd double-crossed them. Judging from the writing on that ransom note, I'd say whoever kidnapped her isn't very smart. If we made sure we were allowed to see her before we gave them the gold, it could work."

"_Could_," I said. "Maybe we oughtn't even to risk that. I mean, it's not necessarily hard to make back, but I don't want to lose all of our supply money on _could_. We could just one of us bring our bag in and say the money's in there."

"Well, we shall have to do something," Erik said. "We need to get the fygg – and save Marionette, as well."

Nick sighed. "Just pack a bag with something and don't let them know it's not money!" he exclaimed, sounding frustrated. "No risk, just a quick double-cross and we'll be out of there with Marionette in no time flat."

We all looked at him. I was the first to speak. "You know, Nick… For a priest, you're pretty diabolical."

He smiled. "I'm not a priest just yet."

So, since it was the least risky plan we could think up, we went with Nick's. We piled the most metallic stuff we could find into my bag and headed out of the city and up to the cave.

I was a little absorbed in my thoughts, so when I heard Cristine's voice, I jumped a little. "Tammy…"

I looked around at her. "Mm?"

She fell into step beside me, playing with a lock of hair nervously. "What happened?" she asked, looking up at me. "In the courtyard, you… It sounded like Marion, but it was your mouth that was moving. What was that?"

I sighed and looked away. Not that it helped – I clearly didn't need to be looking at Cristine for her emotions to come across perfectly clearly. Confusion, concern…pity. Even a little fear.

"I don't know, Cristine," I said tiredly. "It just happened. Marion's ghost touched my arm… Well, I think physical contact makes everything stronger. And I think that memory is part of what's keeping her here. It was always going to be strong."

Cristine hesitated. I looked over at her. Her hand was half-extended, like she was second-guessing an impulse to touch me. I looked down and shoved my hands into my pockets.

"Go talk to Nick," I said quietly. "I think he'd like it."

"What do you mean?"

I smiled and looked at her. "I know what he was feeling when you danced last night," I said, and chuckled.

The surprised look on Cristine's face made me laugh out loud. "Go on!" I said, grinning broadly. "He's not a priest yet – and besides, he's never said anything about becoming celibate."

Cristine blushed a little, but she was smiling. "All right," she said. She was surprised, sure, but more than a little pleased. "I will." She gave me a hug and danced off to join Nick.

I couldn't help feeling happy when the two of them started talking. Then I sighed and looked off towards Erik. His worry had been nagging at my mind since we'd started walking. And his brooding expression made me sure I knew what he was thinking about.

_Don't bother him,_ I told myself sternly. _You wouldn't like it if he did it to you._

I kept walking for a moment. Then I glanced back.

_No, I wouldn't like it. But I'd appreciate it._

"Brooding about Aquila again?" I asked, pausing for a moment so that I could walk next to him. He jumped a little, and then scowled.

"Why do you feel the need to do that?"

"Do what?"

"Bother me when I do not wish to be bothered," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "Do you ever want to be bothered?"

He snorted. "Not by you."

"Well, you're stuck with it," I said. "So is it Aquila again?"

Erik sighed and looked away. "Yes."

"You know," I said, "you sure do worry about him an awful lot for somebody you think is so strange."

He snorted again. "The bond between a Celestrian master and apprentice is a deep one by the nature of what it entails," he said. "Imagine if the two of us were confined to the village of Angel Falls, invisible to all but one another, unable to leave but for a few times out of the month."

I raised my eyebrows. "We'd kill each other."

"True," Erik said, nodding. He put his hands in his pockets. "But Aquila and I got along rather better than you and I do. Aquila, at least, knew the meaning of respect." And, for the second time since I'd met him, he smiled. I blinked in surprise.

But, of course, I had to find a comeback. "Well, that's good," I said. "He was your master; he'd probably be able to beat the meaning of respect into your thick skull better than I ever could."

He sighed and rubbed at his temples. "Must you always find some way to twist my insults to suit yourself?"

I grinned. "Yes. It's good fun."

He sighed again and looked ahead of us. We were crossing a bridge across a narrow river north of Bloomingdale. The cave wasn't far off.

"Three fyggs down," I said finally. "D'you know how many there are all together?"

"Seven, I believe," Erik said. "But I am not quite sure. They bloomed only moments before the darkness came to ravage the Observatory, so I did not exactly have time to count. But if I was to guess, I would say seven."

I nodded. "So we're almost halfway there."

"Yes."

We were quiet again as we walked into the trees. I could hear Nick and Cristine chatting up ahead of us and the river bubbling behind.

Then I asked, "What are you going to do once we've collected them all? I mean, you still don't have your wings or halo – not in any usable form, anyhow. I can see them, but they're all ghostly and invisible to everyone else. And you said that praying didn't get them back."

Erik shrugged. "I do not know," he said. "It is my hope that if we are able to return the fyggs to the Observatory, the Celestrians will finally be permitted to ascend to the Realm of the Almighty. Perhaps once there, I can entreat the Almighty to return me to my Celestrian form."

"And you'd be happy like that?" I asked. "Up there with all those stuffy, mortal-hating Celestrians? Probably you'd never be able to come back down to the Protectorate."

"Yes. I would be happy. I would be among my kind, and I would not have to deal with disrespectful mortal girls and irritating faeries." But underneath his dry attempt at humour, I sensed something. Hesitation? Doubt? I couldn't tell. All I knew was that it didn't go with what he had said.

But I didn't say anything. I just looked ahead and kept on walking.

* * *

We found the cave in a small clearing in front of a cliff. A bridge led across the little stream in front of us. It would have been kind of pleasant except for the rough sign, messily painted with the words _The Bad Cave. F.I.C.K.O. Headkwarters. The Federashun of Increddibly Cunnin Kidnappers Organizations. _

I snorted. "We'll never be able to pull the wool over their eyes," I said. "What a load of geniuses these people must be!"

Cristine frowned. "You'd think they'd hardly have even learnt to read, looking at that."

Erik shrugged. "It matters not, so long as we are able to rescue Marionette and obtain the fygg. Let us go." And he walked off towards the cave. We followed, passing another rough sign pointing inside and bearing the message _People wiv enkweries, this way please._

We found ourselves on a raised walkway when we entered. To our right was a lower area with a door set into the back wall. As we entered, the door slammed open and a bulky-looking man came out.

"Wot the blinkin' Nora are we gonna do now?" he yelled, glaring back at the doorway. A skinny, shifty-looking guy came out, looking sheepish.

"Sorry, Guv," he said, "but it turns out the girl don't 'ave no family or nuffing. And she's given all 'er servants the 'eave-'o, so… There ain't anyone around who's gonna notice she's gone." He flushed and rubbed at his neck. "Yeah, come to think of it, the place was a bit quiet…"

The big one glared back at him. "You plonker!" he spat. The skinny guy winced. But the big one didn't pay him any mind. "But we ain't done for yet! Even if she ain't got family, there's gotta be one of 'er mates or somefink who'll turn up. Just sit tight. Someone'll turn up wiv the dough, you'll see."

"He he!" laughed the skinny guy, and I couldn't tell if he was afraid to get yelled at again or if he was just that stupid. "Sit tight, eh? Genius, Guv! Genius!"

Yeah, he was just stupid.

The two of them turned and went back through the door. Nick raised his eyebrows. "Wow."

"Yeah," Cristine agreed. "Looks like this will be easier than I thought."

At the end of the walkway was a little oval-shaped area with a table and rickety chair. There was also another sign. This one proclaimed, _Welcum. Pleese come in and beseat yourself._

"Don't mind if I don't," I said. "That thing looks dangerous."

"So what do we do now?" Cristine wondered aloud. "I mean, it's not as if there's a 'ring for service' bell or anything."

That was when I heard the big guy's muffled voice. "Hm? I thought I 'eard someone walkin' about… Best 'ave a butchers…"

He came out of a door and up the ladder to where we were standing. "Wot are you doin' 'ere?" he asked. Then his little piggy eyes lit up. "Blimey! You ain't got the ransom, 'ave you!?"

I slid my bag off my shoulders and jiggled it around so he could hear the metal clink. He grinned stupidly.

"Ahem!" he coughed. "Well, well… Welcome to our 'umble 'ideout! Not much to look at, but, you know… We ain't the lucky ones. Don't tell me. I reckon I've got a pretty good idea of who you are. You're, er… You're Bloome's…" He was trying to think. It looked like hard work. I struggled not to laugh.

"Well, you're top notch anyway, intcha?" he said hastily, giving up on the whole thinking thing. "Yeah, a real 'ighbrow 'ero, eh? Diamond! I knew she was worth kidnappin'!" The stupid grin was back. "Well, don't worry. The young lady is in good 'ealth. We ain't laid a finger on 'er." He turned towards the door. "Oi!" he yelled. "Bring the girl out 'ere, would ya?" He glanced back at us. "If ya wouldn't mind just bearin' wiv us a sec… He he he…"

We stood there for a long moment. Cristine fidgeted. Erik folded his arms and tapped his foot impatiently. I hummed quietly. Nick was watching the doorway intently.

But no one came out.

"Oi!" called the big one again after a long moment of no more kidnappers. "Wot's takin' so long, eh?"

The skinny guy ran out the doorway and paused by the base of the ladder. He looked terrified. "Guv, Guv!" he shouted. "We've, er… We've got a bit of a problem, Guv!"

"Eh?" grunted the big one. "Wot is it?"

"She got away!" wailed the skinny guy, wringing his hands. "The bird's done a runner!"

The big one's piggy eyes went wide. "You wot!?" he exclaimed, and scurried down the ladder. He and the skinny guy raced through the doorway.

"And there goes our fygg," I muttered. "Come on, we have to get to Marionette!"

We hurried after the two ruffians. Past the door, we split up to see which way to go, because there were three options. I headed northeast with Cristine. We peered around the bend.

"Nick!" Cristine called. "Erik! This way!"

The two boys joined us and we headed down the corridor. As we passed, the big guy grabbed my arm. "Better watch yer back," he warned. "They say there's a deadly monster down in the depths o' this place. A quiet bird like 'er ain't gonna stand a chance…" He muttered a curse, and I pulled my arm back. "Aah, bloomin' 'eck, this is a disaster!"

"Will not stand a chance, my vanished wings," Erik muttered. "I saw the prison in which Marionette was being kept. The bars were bent wide enough for two of us to walk through without difficulty."

"The fygg," Nick said.

Erik nodded. "Come. We must retrieve it before this gets out of hand."

We had to split up a couple more times to figure out which paths would get us to Marionette. The cave floor kept sloping downwards as the place got damper and more monster-filled. We ended up in a couple brief fights along the way, but nothing difficult. Finally, the narrow, rocky corridors opened up into a cavern littered with rubble and acidic-looking pools. Marionette was standing there looking around, seeming fascinated.

When she heard our footsteps, she turned. "Oh, hello!" she said. I hid my surprise. She didn't seem to hate us any more.

"Hi, Marionette," Cristine said quietly.

Marionette's smile froze. "M-Marionette?" she stammered. "H-How do you know my real name?"

All four of us shifted uncomfortably. She searched our faces, and then shrugged and changed the subject. "I've made some charming new friends," she told us. "One of them has a beard, and the other one has a mask and is called 'Guv'! Only…" She made a face. "I wasn't having much fun playing with them, so I decided to go for a walk. Are you on a walk, too?"

_Decided to go on a walk!_ I glanced around at the others and knew they were thinking the same thing: bending iron bars seemed a little extreme just coming from a desire to go on a walk!

Then my head snapped up as I heard a loud roar. "What the –?"

"Oh, hello," Marionette said, glancing to the right. "Who are you?"

I recoiled as I saw the thing that had roared. It was horribly ugly, a giant skull-headed spider with legs longer than Cristine and I put together. "Hciiiiiiiiiiiih!" it hissed. I was disgusted. I wasn't particularly afraid of bugs, but this one was just absolutely dreadful.

Marionette, however, didn't seem to think so. She turned and curtsied to it, smiling. "Nice to meet you too," she said. "You're very interesting-looking, aren't you? Will you be my friend?"

Judging by the angry-sounding hiss that the spider thing made as it reared back, my guess was _no._

Then Nick, Cristine, Erik, and I all jumped back as the spider slammed back down on Marionette, sending her flying across the room. She landed with a nasty _thunk_ and lay there limply.

Nick led the way as we rushed to see whether or not she was okay. But Marionette didn't so much as twitch. "Darn it," I muttered. "Marion's not going to be happy about that…"

Cristine had looked around at the spider creature. "G-guys," she stuttered. "I don't think it likes us any more than it did Marionette!"

The rest of us turned to see the spider advancing on us, hissing angrily. "Oh, no, you don't," I said, and cast Hot Lick. The spider screeched as the flames enveloped it.

While the spider recovered, the four of us leapt up and prepared to fight. Erik's claws ripped deep into the spider's side, making it screech again and turn on him, clearly angry. Cristine distracted it with a slice from her fan and quickly spun out of the way as the spider tried to shoot a web around her.

Then it turned on Nick, snapping at his left arm with its huge pincers. Nick didn't quite make it out of the way in time and flinched as the pincers caught his skin. But he didn't bother healing it – he just adjusted his grip on his staff and swung it hard at the spider's head. It reeled back, hissing in pain. It looked like there was a dent in its exoskeleton.

I feinted a couple stabs left and right, then slashed hard at one of the spider's front legs. My sword cut clean though and the severed leg hit the cave floor. The spider almost collapsed but then managed to regain its balance, glaring at me out of its hollow skull-eyes. Blackish blood was flowing out of the stump of its leg.

"Hey! Over here, seven-legs!" Cristine called tauntingly. As the spider turned towards the sound of her voice, she cast Frizz. The ball of flame hit it in the head and it hissed, batting at its skull with its remaining front leg.

Erik slashed at it from behind; Nick hit it again. Then it cast a web at me, and I didn't quite manage to evade it. I made a face as I writhed in the sticky strings, trying to get out. I couldn't get my sword into a position to cut the web open!

I had no idea what was going on in the battle around me, but I knew it when a pair of huge pincers suddenly closed around my midsection. "Oi!" I yelled as I was pulled into the air. "Let me down, you disgusting arachnid! I've still got a sword – nhg!"

That last part was because the pressure of the pincers had suddenly vanished and I'd hit the cave floor hard. "Ow…" I muttered.

"Tammy!" Nick called. "You all right?"

I tried to sit up, but I was still all tangled up in the spiderweb. "I can't move for this bloody web," I replied, but my voice sounded muffled. Several pairs of feet moved towards me, and I felt the strings start to loosen. Then I felt them being pulled away and Cristine helped me to sit up. I yanked a couple more sticky strings off of myself and glanced around. "Where's the monster?"

"Dead," Erik replied. "We killed it as it was attempting to go away and eat you."

"Dunno why it would, though," Nick said, grinning. "I don't reckon you'd taste very good, with all that bone and so little meat."

I laughed. "They like thick, muscular tissue," I said, flexing my biceps.

"Then it should have tried to eat Nick instead," Cristine said, smiling. That was true. The not-quite-priest was built more like a warrior than a man of the cloth.

Then I heard voices from behind us. "Oi! Miss!" one called. We turned. It was the two ruffians. They both paused, and the big one spotted Marionette's limp body across the chamber. "M-Miss?" he said. Then he hurried over to her. "Pull yourself together, love!" he said. "Come on!"

When Marionette didn't respond, he turned away, a look of horror on his face. "Oh, crikey…" he said. "She's a goner!"

"Watch it, Guv!" cried the skinny guy, his eyes widening in shock. Behind the big one, Marionette had stood and was brushing off her dress.

"Oh, dearie me," she said. "What a shock!"

A shock, indeed! But none of us were startled into incoherency like the big one, who stuttered, "'Ang abaht!"

When he finally got control of his tongue, he stammered, "Ain't you…s'posed to be dead?" He backed up a pace. "Th-This place is 'aunted! I-I'm gettin' out of 'ere!"

Then he and the skinny guy turned and fled, screaming like little girls. "Heeelp! There's a monster in 'ere! Help! HEEELP!"

Marionette looked after them, her eyes wide with confusion. "A…monster…?" she murmured. "Monsters are those nasty creatures that no one ever likes in story books…" Her face crumpled. "I understand now," she said quietly. "I suppose I always knew deep down… I'm sorry, Marion, but I'm just no good at being mortal… All those people aren't really my friends. They only like me for the things I give them. I've tried, Marion, for your sake… But I'll never be able to make true friends. I'm just a monster."

And then Marion's voice spoke. "You…are no monster… You are…my one true friend… My best friend, Marionette."

As Erik, Marionette, and I looked around for the source of Marion's voice, Nick and Cristine exchanged resigned looks. _Not again_, Cristine mouthed. I looked at them sympathetically. "Sorry," I whispered.

Then Marion's ghost appeared between Marionette and the four of us. Marionette broke into a huge grin. "You're back!" she cried. "Did you go out somewhere nice? Let's play! What do you want to play?"

Marion looked at her sadly. "I-I'm sorry, Marionette," she said quietly. "We can't play any more. We can't ever play again."

I tried to pull myself away from the emotions of girl and doll, but it didn't work.

"Don't you like me any more?" Marionette asked, confused. "Is that why you don't want to play with me?"

"I was all alone in the world, Marionette," Marion said, shaking her head. "You were the one who kept me going. But now… Now, you are all alone."

Marionette looked at Marion. "Alone?"

Marion would have cried if she'd been alive. "You brought me such happiness. I, I…"

Marionette's face lit up. "Happiness!" she exclaimed, heart rising. "Yes! I'm always happy when I'm with you, Marion."

"I'm so sorry," Marion said. "Be free now, Marionette. Forget about my dying wish. Just be free."

She started to glow, and the longing in the air grew exponentially. I sighed inaudibly. That shouldn't have been such a familiar emotion…

"I am Marion. You are Marionette. I have to go somewhere far, far away. The Celestrians are coming to take me. Don't pretend to be me any more. You are Marionette. Go back to being a doll now." Her figure rose into the air. "Thank you…Marionette… Thank you…my one true friend… May you…find happiness…"

And then, with a bright flash, Marion went on. I lowered my arm from where I'd raised it to block the light. Marionette was looking at us. "Marion has gone on a long journey," she said, "so I must go back to being a doll. But first I must tell everyone that Marion's going away…"

Solemnly, she left the cave.

And, slowly, we followed her.

* * *

The fygg was waiting for us back in the graveyard, where we found Marionette lying limply against Marion's grave.

"There it is!" came Nanny's voice from behind us. We turned to see her standing in the doorway. She walked out to join us. "How ever did Marion's doll end up here? Come along, Marionette. Let's get you back to Marion's room so you'll be there when she comes home." She started to pull the doll away, then glanced back at us. "Oh, yes. My dears… Marion wanted you to know that you can have her ship. Apparently, the ship's warden is waiting for you on the jetty. He's abreast of the situation, too. Goodbye, then, dears." She waved to us and entered the house.

We headed down to the dock, where the warden, an old man in a brown robe, was waiting. "There you are!" he called as we drew near. "I've been waiting for you! I expect you've been busy being showered with gratitude by Ms Bloome, have you?"

"Actually, no," Erik said. "We were unable to speak with her before she set off on her journey."

The warden raised his eyebrows. "Really?" he asked. "She's a standoffish one alright, that young lady! She could have at least thanked you for rescuing her before heading off." He shook his head. "Anyway… As promised, this old vessel is yours now, to sail on wherever you please! Take her far and wide! She likes to travel, this one!"

I smiled. "Looks like we have something in common already," I said, patting the railing of the gangplank. "We're going to have a good time, you and I, old girl!"

"Uh-oh," Cristine said, smiling too. "Maybe we shouldn't have done this. We'll never get you off this old thing!"

The ship's warden smiled as well. "Go on then, climb aboard. There's a fine wind today. You wouldn't want to waste it!"

"Thank you, sir," Nick said, and we filed on board. I took a deep breath of the sea air. Soon we'd be on the move again, and by my favourite means: the ocean.

The warden waved. "Have a safe journey, young'uns," he called. "I'll be praying for you."

We waved back, and I set to work getting us ready to set sail. Cristine, Nick, and Erik helped under my direction. Soon enough, the sails were ready, and I took the wheel to steer us off and away from the shore.

As the wind caught and we picked up speed, Stella popped out. "Yay!" she cried, and for once I didn't feel like arguing with her sentiments. "We've blagged ourselves a boat at last! Let's set sail and see what we can see. Other than the sea, if you see what I mean…"

I smiled. "Don't need to tell me twice," I said.

And we sailed on through the cerulean waves.

* * *

Hey again, all!

Oh, it feels good to update... A few days ago I was ready to panic about it. I'd attached the Word file for this story to an e-mail and saved it in my Drafts folder, figuring I'd be able to click on the attachment and open it right up, but...it didn't work. I was freaking out. Almost half the chapter was already written, and for some reason it had given me a lot of trouble to get out. So I was worried that I was going to have to rewrite it and it would take forever to update, but fortunately Mom thought of an idea: I'd send her the message and she'd open the attachment from her own account. Luckily, it worked, so even though the chapter's a bit late, it's not nearly as late as it would have been if I'd had to completely rewrite.

So I hope you enjoy this. We're travelling now and I don't have a flash drive, so I'm not quite sure how I'll keep my work with me, but I'll do my best. I've really been enjoying this, and my cousin Nina has actually given me a couple good ideas for things to do with Erik and Tammy. So stay tuned!

May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	13. Chapter 13

THE DAY AT sea was the most peaceful I'd had since the night of the earthquake. A strong breeze blew from behind, catching in the sails and sending us cutting through the waves. Cristine clambered in the rigging, keeping the sails adjusted right. I had no idea how she was able to see with the wind blowing her hair everywhere.

Nick had disappeared belowdecks to explore. I was standing at the wheel, letting the wind hit my back as I steered us through the channel between Newid Isle and the landmass containing Dourbridge and Bloomingdale. Erik had migrated to the prow of the ship, where he stood, watching the ocean ahead of us. Occasionally he'd call back about rocks ahead or a sudden narrowing of the channel. I had to admit, it was useful to have him up there.

We were lucky enough to have a good wind to push us along at a steady pace. I wasn't sure exactly where we were going next - we were debating between the Iluugazar Plains and Gleeba - but at this rate, we'd reach landfall at either place long before sundown. And honestly, I didn't really care how long it took. I loved sailing.

"Oi!" I called across the deck of the ship. Nick (who had just come up from the hatch), Erik, and Cristine looked back at me. "Where are we headed next?"

"Let's go to Gleeba," Cristine said, smiling dreamily. "I love it there."

None of the others had any arguments. "Gleeba it is, then," I said, and smiled. I loved the desert kingdom, too.

We reached the place where the channel widened as Newid Isle and the other landmass curved away from one another. I steered us northeast and then just east, into a new channel between the Djust Desert and Dourbridge. To the north, the mountains that bordered most of the Djust Desert coast rose up. To the south were lush trees and to the east and west ocean stretched out in front of and behind us. I sighed with pleasure. _Beautiful. _

The air grew steadily warmer a the mountains to the north grew lower, letting hot breezes from the desert blow our way. It was good that I liked the warmth, I reflected, _because we'll definitely see a lot of it here!_

As Cristine showed Nick how to adjust the sails so we'd keep the wind in them, the _Pride_ lurched. My head whipped round. Something had hit us from behind.

"Weapons out!" I called, drawing my sword. I had hoped we'd be able to avoid a fight, but I hadn't counted on it. Between the irritable monsters that lived in the ocean and and the increased numbers of them since the earthquake, we had no chance of getting to Gleeba without monster dust on our weapons.

We waited in silence for a second. Then, with several loud splashes, three monsters leapt on deck: two spinchilas and a knocktopus.

Erik and I heaved the anchors into the ocean and ran to join the fight. Cristine had cast Whoosh and sliced through the spinchillas; Nick had smashed the knocktopus over the head. One of the spinchillas spun at Cristine. She danced back, but the spinchilla still managed to clip her head. She winced.

I jumped off the ladder and sprinted into battle, slicing deep into the spinchilla that had attacked Cristine. Its friend clawed at me. I blocked it with my blade.

The knocktopus spat out a volley of spikes. Nick and I ducked behind our shields; Cristine dodged behind the mast; Erik got hit with one on his bare arm and grunted in pain. But it couldn't have hurt too badly, because he raced at the knocktopus and raked both sets of claws across its eyes, scoring deep lines and probably blinding it.

We had a pretty easy time of it after that, and soon enough we were moving again. It was another half-hour or so before we made landfall on the coast. From there, we had about two kilometre's walk inland to reach the walls of Gleeba.

The city was bustling. It wasn't a market like it had been when we'd gotten to Bloomingdale, but there were still merchants out and about. It was nowhere near sundown, but things were beginning to cool off a bit, and the shadows were getting longer. Shade was easier to find than it would have been a couple hours before.

Nick didn't seem big on the heat, although the white silk robe he was wearing probably had something to do with that. "How do these people stand it?" he wondered aloud. "It feels like a brick oven! I don't know why you like it so much, Cristine."

She smiled. "Yeah," she said, "it is hot, but it's really pretty. I mean, just look round! All the desert, and the mountains and the sea way off that way... And the people are really nice. The way they build stuff, too - I love the buildings! And I've heard that their dancers are some of the best in the world, though I haven't yet had a chance to watch a performance."

"Dancers?" Erik asked, raising an eyebrow.

Cristine nodded. "Gleeba's known for its dancing traditions - belly dancing, mostly, which is unique to the area. I've never actually seen it, but it sounds quite interesting. And the dancers are incredibly well-trained. There was one who came to Coffinwell once when I was little - she was a minstrel from here, absolutely brilliant. I'd love to see a performance one day."

I glanced round. "Well," I said, "I think we've all deserved an afternoon off from fygg hunting and monster fighting. What do you say we hang round here for the rest of the day, have supper someplace, and go see the dancers tonight?"

Cristine's face broke into an excited smile. "That would be brilliant! What do you say, Nick? Erik?"

"Could be fun," Nick said.

Erik shrugged. "As long as I do not have to perform anything."

I grinned. "Coward," I said.

He rolled his eyes. "I shall go inquire about the performance," he said. "And then perhaps wander about the merchants' booths. There ought to be interesting wares in such a different place as this."

"Gonna look for what's-his-face too, eh?" I asked. "Vul-whatever, Gleeba's Guardian."

He looked at me smugly. "Acutally, I have already found him." He gestured past me. I twisted to see a dark-haired Celestrian with hawk-like features patrolling the streets with a two-bladed sword. He didn't notice us and kept flying through the city.

I stuck my tongue out at Erik. "Whatever," I said. "Here, Cristine, you want to sing?"

* * *

Erik left the others as the two minstrels prepared for another small performance and Nick headed to the church, saying he wished to speak with someone about being ordained. The two boys walked together for a brief while, but Erik remained in the area around the merchants while Nick headed onward.

He browsed among the booths, speaking with the merchants while he did so. It was a simple enough way of gathering information, though in the heat of the desert city he would have much preferred to be indoors. However, the wares were interesting, and speaking with the merchants was an odd experience. Many were from Gleeba and so spoke in a formal manner which, after so much time spent among mortals, sounded nearly foreign coming from a mouth besides his own. Even so, he enjoyed the lack of odd looks that he usually received when people heard him speak.

"May I assist you?" asked the woman in charge of the weapons booth Erik was then standing at.

"Yes, I hope so," Erik replied. "I am searching for a particular fruit."

The woman smiled. "I believe you are in the wrong place for such a thing," she told him. "You may be able to find it at the booth some paces to your right."

"I do not believe it lies in a merchant's booth," Erik said. "It is nearly a unique object - a golden fruit of such radiance that it seems almost to shine. Would you have heard of such a thing?"

The woman pursed her lips, thinking. Then she shook her head. "I am afraid not," she told him. "My deepest apologies. However, there are many merchants here, and all have travelled widely. Perhaps you will find luck in your search if you speak with them."

Erik nodded. "Thank you," he said, and set down the pair of claws he had been examining. They were interesting, but his current pair was holding up well. He did not need a new one.

"Good luck to you," called the woman as Erik walked away. He raised a hand in acknowledgement.

Unfortunately, his luck was no better anywhere else. All he could find was that there had been a peddler with a fruit resembling a fygg in town some days previous. He had, however, overheard interesting bits of conversation about Voluptua, the queen of Gleeba, and the dwindling water supply. From what he heard, it seemed that Voluptua was as fond of luxury as her name suggested - and that she cared little about the effects of her voluptuous lifestyle on the rest of the queendom. If anyone was likely to have the fygg, Erik thought, it was her.

After purchasing some food - he had noticed that their supplies were getting low - he asked directions to the dance theatre and made his was there. As he passed the square where Tammy and Cristine were performing, Tammy glanced his direction. Erik waved and kept moving. Both girls had good voices, he reflected, _but Tammy, at least, sounds better in her natural range. _He could not say the same for Cristine, as he had never heard her sing alto, but he imagined it held true for her as well.

The interior of the theatre was dark and surprisingly cool. A stage occupied most of the centre of the room. To the right was a counter, behind which sat a somewhat paunchy Gleeban.

Erik decided to speak with him. "Hello, sir," he said, approaching. "I would like to inquire - excuse me, sir!" For Erik had just realised that the man was asleep.

He reached across and shook the man's shoulder. The man woke with a splutter. "What - What!?"

"I am very sorry," Erik said, hiding his amusement. "I was hoping to inquire after four tickets to a performance sometime soon? Tonight, if possible."

"Of course," said the man, reaching for a book. He flipped through a few pages and then paused, running his finger down a column of names and numbers. "Ah - here. You are in luck, young man; we have several tickets left. May I have the names?"

"Erik - _k_, not _c_ - Tammy, Cristine - no _h _- and Nick."

The man nodded and wrote down their names. "Thank you," he said, placing his quill back in the inkwell. "The performance begins at six thirty. Give your names at the door and we shall match them to the list. Also, pay when you come in. It is ten gold per person."

Erik nodded once. "Thank you," he said, and left.

* * *

Cristine and I sang the last note and bowed as the crowd began to clap. I was beaming. Almighty, I loved this!

As we started packing up - we'd been performing for quite a while by that point - I spotted Erik again, this time coming back from the dance theatre. I scooped up the gold we'd been tossed and headed that way.

"Hey," I said. "Find anything interesting?"

Erik nodded. "I believe Queen Voluptua may be in possession of the fygg," he told us. "And I made reservations for the performance."

Cristine beamed. "Thanks, Erik," she said. "When is it?"

"Tonight at six thirty," he replied. "So I believe we ought to retrieve Nick and go to supper soon."

We headed for the church, but halfway there, Nick intercepted us. So we turned round and headed to the inn for supper.

Cristine and I ordered for everyone, since neither Nick nor Erik knew anything about Gleeban food. As we brought the plates to a table, Cristine asked, "So, Nick, did you find out anything about being ordained?"

Nick nodded, setting down his plate. He pulled out Cristine's chair for her as he said, "The priest here said that the Bishop is going to be at Swinedimples in a few weeks to ordain some theology students. If I can be there at the same time, I'm sure I can ask him if he'll ordain me, too."

"Neat!" Cristine said. "Thanks, by the way."

"So what is this exactly?" Erik asked through a mouthful of meat.

I grinned. "Kitten."

Then I laughed aloud as he spat the food back out on his plate and rubbed at his mouth, looking horrified. _"What!?"_

I couldn't stop laughing long enough to answer, so Cristine did it for me. "It's _pork_," she said, giggling. "Almighty, Tammy, that was dreadful!"

"Doesn't stop you from thinking it's funny, though, does it?" I asked, chortling. Nick had his head in his hands, but I could see that he was smiling. Erik was glaring at me darkly. "Oh, please," I said, mocking his glare. "You can't pretend that wasn't the least bit funny. If you'd been able to see your face -!" I broke off, laughing harder.

Erik seemed a bit grumpy through the rest of dinner, and I noticed he didn't eat much of the pork, but I didn't care. That had been some of the best fun I'd had in weeks.

It was getting dark when we left the inn at six fifteen and headed over to the dance theatre. We gave our names at the door and paid ten gold each, and then headed into the darkened, cool room. Through a series of artful dodges and quick sprints, we managed to worm our way up to nearly the very front, where we'd have a perfect view. Cristine and Nick were to my right; Erik was on my left.

And a quarter of an hour later, the main floor darkened substantially while the stage lanterns were lit. Music began from backstage, and, one by one, the dancers made their ways onstage.

I was captivated from the start. Everything I'd heard about how good the Gleeban dancers were was completely true. They flowed together perfectly without ever glancing at one another. They scarcely even seemed to have rehearsed - it came out so naturally, so freely, that it looked as if it was brand-new.  
The lights glinted and winked off the jewels set into their costumes, drawing every eye to the motion of the figures. They were absolutely brilliant.

Cristine seemed even more fascinated than I was when I glanced away to look at her. She was swaying slightly along with the music, and I could tell she was itching to try some of the moves out for herself. Her eyes were bright with excitement.

To my surprise, Erik seemed to be absorbed by the performance, too. He was staring at the dancers, wide-eyed. I furrowed my brows. Perhaps the Celestrian had a greater appreciation for mortal culture than I had thought before.

I followed his eyes to a dark-skinned young woman with bright eyes and flashing white teeth - one of the more skilled dancers. She was quite pretty, I decided, with smooth skin, sleek curves, and a very athletic-looking shape.

Then I glanced at Erik again. His mouth was slightly open, though he didn't seem to realise it. I pursed my lips, wondering.

Halfway through shifting my gaze to the floor in an attempt to think, I saw something that made my eyes go wide. My mouth fell open, too, and I had to look again to make sure I'd really seen it. And I had.

I looked between Erik and the young woman again several times, at which point I noticed that the dancer was quite_ gifted _for someone with such a slim figure.

Suddenly, I realised I was angry. Very angry. I glared at the woman - glared even harder at Erik - and then turned and stalked out of the theatre. There was ale at the bar at the inn where we'd ordered supper. I wanted ale.

The lack of sunshine made the city cold, but I was burning. The_ idiot_! All this time he had acted as though he was so far above us - a Celestrian, superior, aloof. He irritated me more than anyone else ever could because of it. But there he was in the theatre staring gape-mouthed at some big-breasted dancer ten years his physical elder, as if he had completely lost his wits!

No, I didn't need an ale. I needed two. Maybe three.

I sat down on a stool in front of the bar. A sweet-looking young woman standing behind the bar drying a mug asked, "What can I get you?"

"What's your strongest ale?"

The bartender eyed me doubtfully, but said, "A local brew called Desert's Throat. But I see no reason why such a pretty thing as yourself would be sitting at a bar drowning herself in ale."

I didn't bother arguing with the pretty bit. "I want a strong ale. So a mug of Desert's Throat, please."

"Are you sure?" she asked me. "It is very potent. I am not sure -"

"I can hold my liquor," I interrupted. "Please, just pour me a mug."

She obliged, filling a mug with a liquid the colour of desert sand. I thanked her and put the mug to my lips. The warm, bitter drink raced past my tongue and cheeks and down my throat as I took a heady draught. Then I sighed and set the mug down, though I didn't let go. "Thank you."

As I took another, slightly smaller, drink, the bartender asked, "So may I ask why you want such a strong drink?"

I made a face. "I think I'll need to drink a lot more before I'm willing to discuss it. Just don't let me out of the building. I might go and kill him if I've had enough."

The bartender didn't say anything, and I took another couple sips. The flavour seemed to be getting better as I drank. I wondered if it was mixed properly.

I wasn't quite sure when, but at some point my thoughts must have become words, because the bartender raised a dark eyebrow. "I suppose this Erik fellow is courting you?"

My eyes went wide. "Oh!" I choked. "Oh - Almighty - no! No, definitely not! I hate him!"

"Oh," she said, confused. "Then why were you at the theatre with him?"

"My friend Cristine," I said. "She wanted to see the dancers, so we all went." I tried to take another sip and realised my mug was empty. I held it up. "Another one, please?" My tongue felt thick and heavy. Vaguely, I wondered why.

The bartender bit her lip. "I am not sure that is a good idea," she said. "Able as you seem to be at drinking, I do not think _two _Desert's Throats is wise for anyone."

I rolled my eyes and reached for my bag. "Look," I said, "I'll pay for 'em both now and then go up to bed. Almighty, you sound like my father!" My accent was slipping too, getting slower and looser. _Meh._

"Your father did not let you drink?"

"Nah. Just didn't get along with me. Didn't really like me to do anything - none of it was stuff that fit in his view of the world." I fumbled with the clasp on my coin purse and finally got it open. "So another mug, please?"

I didn't really remember much after that. At some point, I supposed, the bartender escorted me up to my room; I had a vague memory of stairs, sheets, and a woman's face that for some reason I decided would be nice to kiss. It looked like the bartender's. Before that, I didn't have much - a word or two here, part of a conversation there. The less ale was left in the mug, the less I remembered.

When I finally woke the next morning, I didn't want to open my eyes. I had a pounding headache and my tongue felt strange and fuzzy. A pair of feet pounded across the floor of the room above me. I winced as the noise exacerbated my headache.

Then I opened my eyes and winced again. The curtains were drawn, but enough of the desert sunlight was getting in to light up the room. I rolled over and pulled the blankets up over my head. Light was just as bad as noise.

As my memories of the night before - both vague and clear - returned, I groaned. Then I winced.

And then I groaned inwardly.

This was going to be a long, long day...

* * *

Ouch... I hope that description was accurate. It felt painful enough to be, but I wouldn't know - the closest I've ever come to a hangover is a communion cup of wine and a sip of radler from a biergarten. I suppose that makes me a bad psuedo-German. Not only do I hardly speak the language, but I'm it's-your-guess years old and don't drink! Ah, well...

Good luck to Tammy. Let's hope the bar has coffee and cold water as well as Desert's Throat, eh?

May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	14. Chapter 14

_I opened my eyes and winced again. The curtains were drawn, but enough of the desert sunlight was getting in to light up the room. I rolled over and pulled the blankets up over my head. Light was just as bad as noise._

_As my memories of the night before - both vague and clear - returned, I groaned. Then I winced._

_And then I groaned inwardly._

_This was going to be a long, long day..._

* * *

"TAMMY?" CAME CRISTINE'S voice, accompanied by a knock at the door. "Tammy, are you awake?"

I nestled deeper into my blankets, hoping she would think I was sleeping and leave me alone. Unfortunately, though, that didn't work. The door opened and I heard Cristine's footsteps.

"Tammy," Cristine said, and pulled the blankets away from my face. I squinted as the sunlight flooded my eyes, trying not to show how much worse that made mt headache. "What in the world has you in bed so late? It's nearly nine thirty!"

"Is it?" I asked. My voice sounded dry and tired. "S-Sorry, Cristine." I yawned. Then I made myself get up. "I'll try to eat fast."

She shook her head and got off the bed. "We're getting more to eat anyway," she told me. "I think we were all up by six forty-five or seven, so we're hungry again."

I apologised again for keeping them so long. All this noise was painful, but I certainly wasn't going to let on about my hangover. I'd never live the bloody thing down if they found out.

Downstairs, I thanked my lucky stars that there was a different bartender. When the others had ordered, I stepped up.

"Erm... Toast, please, with scrambled eggs. And a glass of water, please."

He handed me the drink and I thanked him.

We got our food soon and sat down at the same table we'd taken over for dinner the night before. I made sure I was as far away from Erik as possible.

I nursed my water and tried to eat a little while the others filled me in on what we were going to do that day. Thanks to Erik's little recon mission in the market, we had a good idea that the fygg was with Queen Voluptua. So once we were done eating, we were going to try to get her to grant us an audience.

I really hoped that this would be simple.

Hangovers and fygghunting didn't mesh.

When we were done eating, I stood to collect everyone's plates and bring them back to the bar. I was really, really tempted to leave Erik's at the table, but I didn't. A shouting match wasn't going to help my headache.

_At least I'm not feeling nauseous, _I thought. _I don't think I could have gotten out of bed if that was the case._

"Tammy, are you sure you're feeling all right?" Cristine asked. "Your eyes are all puffy... Have you been crying or something?"

"I'm fine!" I insisted, and then winced as my head throbbed. "Just... I have a bit of a headache. And I had some trouble getting to sleep last night. That's all. Come on - let's go after the fygg."

The bright light of the desert morning made me want to curl up into a ball and die. I gritted my teeth and kept going with the others, though. I had been stupid last night; now I was dealing with the consequences. There was no way, though, that I was going to let on to the others. Especially not Erik. _Stupid prat._

We didn't have any trouble getting into the palace; after the guard warned us that the place was filled to the rafters with women, he let us on through. Finding someone who would grant us an audience with the queen, though, was a lot more difficult. The palace floor was crisscrossed with little marble channels full of running water, which we had to navigate around just to get past the entrance hall. Past that, there were still dozens of rooms to explore - not even considering the upper level.

Eventually, after being turned away from what seemed to be a fairly big, central room by a slightly rude female guard, we made our way upstairs. As we reached the top of the steps, I let my head drop into my palm. "Of course," I said. "All that effort, and it was so bloody simple."

The entire huge, open space we were in was the throne room. There was a very nervous man pacing near the throne, but no sign of a queen. But, since the man looked like the next-best thing - or at least our best chance of finding Voluptua - I decided to start a conversation.

"Excuse me," I said quietly.

The man nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled to face us, beginning to splutter something about "Your Majesty -". Then he realised that he was facing four teenagers. "Yes, yes, what is it?" He was even more nervous than I had thought, I realised. His voice was several pitches too high to belong to a calm grown man.

"We are seeking a golden-hued fruit," Erik explained.

The man's brows knotted up. "Such a thing was given to Her Majesty Queen Voluptua not long ago. But she will not grant an audience to travellers."

"Lovely," I muttered.

"Unless..."

Cristine perked up. "Unless what?"

"We are facing something of a crisis in the palace," explained the man. "If you were to help us to resolve it, perhaps I could pull some strings to get you an audience. Well? Will you agree to my request?"

Nick nodded. "Of course. What's the problem?"

The man sighed with relief. "That is most excellent news," he said. "That muddle-headed maiden Misslei has mislaid His Dryness, Her Majesty's beloved and most golden pet lizard. I wonder, could we call on your most exalted aid in apprehending the errant amphibian? Misslei is searching the corridors of the floor below us. Should you wish to help with the hunt, perhaps you could speak with her. His Dryness's importance to Her Highness cannot be overestimated. I hope ardently that we can count on your assistance."

"You can, sir," Cristine said, and smiled. "Thank you!"

Misslei wasn't hard to find. We wandered through the palace for a minute or so before I caught a sense of particularly strong agitation. "This way," I said. "Misslei should be along here somewhere."

"And how, may I ask, do you know that?" Erik asked. I didn't acknowledge him. So he followed Nick, Cristine, and me, rolling his eyes in exasperation. _Serves him right._

The source of the agitation was a pretty young girl with violet hair and a worried expression. She was hurrying through the corridors calling, "Your Dryneeess! Draaaaaak! Where are yoooou?" And then she stopped and slumped against the wall, head in her hands, just about ready to cry. "Oh, what am I to do?" she moaned. "It is all my fault!"

"Excuse me," I said, trying to be gentle about it.

Her head snapped up, eyes going wide with panic. Then she saw us. "Do you need something?" she asked. "I am afraid I am a little busy with the hunt for His Dryness, Her Majesty's most beloved pet lizard."

"Are you Misslei?" Nick asked. "The girl who lost him?"

The girl blushed furiously. "Well, yes, I am," she said. "Did you have some business with me?"

I nodded. "We wanted to help hunt him down."

Misslei's eyes lit up. "Oh, that's wonderful!" she exclaimed, and I tried to keep from flinching at the noise. "Thank you so much." She gestured towards the eastern side of the palace. "I am currently searching this area, so if you could hunt for him elsewhere, I would be very much obliged. He despises loud noises, and likes to hide where there are no noisy people around. Were you to go to such a place and make a clap or some such surprising noise, he might well be surprised into the open." She smiled sweetly. "I cannot thank you enough for helping in the hunt. You are truly kind."

* * *

We spent a long while searching for a quiet part of the palace. It seemed like everywhere we went, we ran into handmaidens or servants or viziers or _someone_ who couldn't help making a lot of noise. The one person we didn't see was Queen Voluptua. Which was probably a good thing - nobody wanted to explain why a bunch of random travellers were wandering through her palace.

I had held back to look into an empty room near the back of the palace. I checked everywhere - under the bed, behind the bookcase, under tables and chairs and wardrobes, but I didn't see any sign of a little golden lizard. Frustrated, I slammed the door on the way out.

Which seemed to surprise Erik, who was searching another room nearby. He raised an eyebrow. "You are agitated this morn."

"Am I now." I didn't look at him, just started to walk away.

By the tone in his voice, I could tell that he'd caught my sarcasm. "Yes, you are," he said sharply. "What is wrong with you, Tammy?"

I snorted. "A long list of stuff," I replied, heading down the corridor. "And all of it starts with the word _Erik_."

"Tammy!"

I didn't turn.

_"Tammy!"_

Bloody hell, his voice was loud. I flinched at the noise but kept walking.

Then I felt his hand grab my arm. I turned sharply, lips pursed. "_What_, Erik?"

He studied my face for a moment, while I stood there stubbornly. I hadn't realised til just then how much taller than me he was.

"Were you..._drinking_ last night?" he asked.

I scowled. "None of your business if I was," I told him. "Run along now. Isn't there some big-breasted dancer girl waiting for you to moon over her again?"

Then I yanked my arm out of his suddenly slack grip and stalked away.

"I -" he spluttered, "what - Tammy! What do you mean?"

"Don't play stupid!" I snapped, whirling around. "I was standing right there next to you - how could I not have noticed? Go on," I said then. "I'm sure you and your little friend will both be very happy."

I was satisfied to see the outraged flush on his face as my words registered. "That is an involuntary reaction -"

"In humans!" I replied. Almighty, my headache was getting worse by the second. "You stupid prat - you act as though you could never do anything wrong - anything _human_ - as though you're absolutely bloody perfect - and then you go and do the basest, most human, most _boylike _thing I can imagine!"

He glared at me. "One might almost think you were jealous, Tammy."

My mouth fell open. _"Jealous!"_ I repeated, outraged. "Jealous - of whoever the bloody hell she is - you have too high an opinion of yourself, Erik. Let me deflate your ego a little..." I counted out on my fingers each flaw I pointed out and took a step forward with each one. "Arrogant - self-satisfied - rude - bossy - inconsiderate - pompous - holier-than-thou - in short, anything and everything I could ever hate in a person." By that point, I was only a few inches away from him. I glared up into his face. "So no, I'm not jealous. And I pity the poor fool who has the misfortune to catch your eye."

This time, when I stalked away, he didn't try to call after me.

* * *

Nick and Cristine had found the lizard outside, hiding under a palm tree. Misslei was ecstatic when we told her that we had the lizard. "Oh, thank you so much!" she said. "You are truly wonderful! Please, you must inform the Chancellor. He is on the floor above us worrying himself sick."

"We will," Cristine said. "Thanks for the tips, Misslei."

Misslei beamed. But as we walked away, I heard her murmur, "But whyever would Drak have ventured into the heat of the outdoors...?"

Upstairs, the Chancellor was just as excited as Misslei. "What is this I see before me?" he said, peering at the little golden lizard nestled in Cristine's arms. "The lizard with you is none other than His Dryness, the right-honourable Drak! You are as good as your word, wanderers! As promised, I will request for you an audience with Her Majesty."

Five minutes later, we were standing before the throne, in which sat probably one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. She was lounging back lazily, her heavily lidded eyes only open a bit. What I could see of her iris was blue, a colour I'd not seen in anyone else in the desert kingdom. It was a striking contrast to her smooth, dark copper-coloured skin.

"Your Exalted Majesty, may I present Nick, Cristine, Erik, and Tammy, the intrepid travellers who discovered His Exalted Dryness, Drak."

Voluptua sighed heavily and turned her gaze on the Chancellor. "Do we really have to talk about your boring old travellers right now?" she asked. Her voice was low and rich, with a lazy drawl to it. But it grew a little sharper as she looked at Misslei, who was standing to the left of the throne. "We have more important things to discuss, don't we, pretty Misslei?"

The handmaiden fidgeted uncomfortably. She was terrified.

"Now, remind me, Drak hasn't run away before, has he?" Without waiting for an answer, Voluptua continued: "No, he hasn't. Which means you must have done something horrible to him, you vicious, spiteful girl! Tell me what you did!"

Misslei cringed. "Your Majesty, I, I - forgive me, I was taking the utmost care of His Dryness as always, then suddenly, he was gone..."

I could feel Misslei's terror clearly, and I could tell that it was well deserved. Voluptua had it in for her because of Drak's escape.

The queen shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Please, I'm far too pretty and important to sit around listening to pathetic excuses," she said, stretching out in her throne. "Run along and pack your things. You're fired."

Misslei's eyes went wide in shock. "B-But please!" she stammered. "Your Majesty, I -"

She flinched and stopped talking as Voluptua shot her a poisonous glare. Then the queen turned her heavy-lidded gaze on us. "Now, what was it you wanted, my little lost travellers?"

"Your Majesty," Nick said, "we came because of a golden fruit, which we'd heard was in your possession. We need it."

"I see..." Voluptua said slowly, looking over each of us. I heard a small derisive snort as she took in the state of our clothes from fighting and travelling. She rolled her eyes when she looked at me. I couldn't quite blame her - I looked an absolute mess - but it irritated me. She was _amused_ by us.

"Well, I'd love to, of course," she said, "especially as it's you, but I just can't."

My mouth went taught. "Why?" I asked, knowing that it came out snippily and not caring that it ticked her off. Her lazy drawl went a little sharper as she replied, "Why, I don't have it, that's why."

Oh, now I was angry. _The self-centred prat!_

"I was just slipping out of a lovely, relaxing bath, when I noticed it was gone. Oh, I'm so silly and forgetful sometimes!" She gave a high, clear laugh, and then looked over at Misslei. "I expect some horrid, jealous girl who works for me probably took it for herself and ate it..."

"Wha - No! Your Majesty, I would never -"

"Your Exalted Highness! There is something you must see!"

A very out-of-breath handmaiden sprinted up the stairs and skidded to a halt between us and the queen. Breathing heavily, she said, "It was found beneath the tree where His Dryness was recaptured!" She held something out in front of her. Voluptua rose in surprise.

"Oh, look, it's the golden fruit we were just talking about!" she said. My stomach turned uncomfortably. I didn't have a good feeling about this...

Voluptua looked at Drak. "How funny!" she giggled. "What on earth was silly old Drak doing with it?" Then she shrugged and glanced away. "Well, as long as I've got it back, that's the main thing."

Smiling, she walked up to me. I grumbled inwardly as I realised that she was much taller than me - probably taller than Erik, too. This was irritating.

"So, my intrepid traveler, I suppose I should hand this over to you, shouldn't I?"

"We'd appreciate it if you would," I said, trying and failing to sound polite about it.

That was when Voluptua covered her mouth and let out a laugh. "Ha ha ha!" she giggled. "Oh, you are stupid, aren't you?" I glared, but she didn't see it through her fit of mirth. "You really thought I was going to give it to you, didn't you? Ha ha ha ha! No, I'm going to slice it all up into teeny-weeny pieces and put it in my bath water."

My eyes went wide with outrage, and I glanced around at the others. They all seemed shocked, too.

"A fruit like this is bound to make my skin even softer and more beautiful, assuming that's even possible, of course!" And then she loomed over me, staring down at me with a smug smile. "I'm sure you won't mind the fruit you've been searching so hard for being sacrificed for such a noble cause." She turned towards Drak, and I resisted the urge to make a very rude gesture at her back. "Come on, then, my Drakky-Woo!" she crooned. "That nasty, dirty traveler touched you, didn't she? Let's get you in the bath and wash off the filth."

* * *

Hi everyone!

I know, I know, I'm late again... The lake we go to with my grandparents doesn't have WiFi. I'm pleased with myself, though - pale as I am, I didn't get sunburnt! And we were out all day, too.

Anyway... Well, we're going to the store. Got to go!

May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	15. Chapter 15

"OOH, THE FLAPPING cheek!" exploded Stella. "What kind of a queen is she supposed to be? She's horrible!"

I had to agree. Much as the faerie annoyed me sometimes, she was right on occasion.

"Oi, sockears, were you even listening?" she asked Erik, who was staring after Voluptua with a look of shocked anger. He jumped and looked at the faerie. "She said she's gonna chop up that fygg and chuck it in her bath! Who knows what'll happed when she starts coking up a syrup of fyggs in her bathtub! I can't imagine it'll be pretty... We've got to stop her! Quick, get on down to that big room with all the big baths in! Chop, chop! And don't tell me to keep my hair on!"

I closed my mouth, which had just been open to tell her that exact thing. The five of us hurried down the stairs.

At the entrance to the baths, we ran into the same rude guard who had turned us away earlier. "This is Queen Voluptua's private bathing chamber," she said.

From behind the door, I heard the queen's voice: "Are you ready, girls? We're going to chop up this pretty little golden fruit and make me a lovely bath with it. Can you slice in nice and thinly for me and pop it in the water? There's good girls. Hurry up now."

"Thus does our monarch prepare a regal, fruit-infused bath," said the guard, and smirked. "You are, of course, still forbidden to enter."

"What!?" yelped Stella, while I clenched my jaw and walked off, shoving my hands in my pockets. The others walked with me, leaving Stella to fume alone. "We aren't allowed in? But if we can't make an entrance, they'll slice the whole flapping fygg to bits!" Then she realised that we weren't with her any more, and she fluttered after us. "There's nothing for it," she said, catching up. "We'll just have to bend everyone in the castle's ears off till we find someone who knows another way in."

"Or we could just let them slice the bloody thing up and deal with the consequences," I muttered. "Would serve 'em right."

"You're mean today," Cristine said.

Erik snorted. "'Today'?"

I shot him a withering look.

But eventually we did find a way into the bathing chambers. One of the handmaids gave us a tip to check the roof of the palace, where a man had a habit of loitering. So we headed up, and sure enough, there was a middle-aged man sitting at the edge of a long pool, fishing.

"Excuse me," Nick said. The man looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"We're sorry to bother you," Cristine said, "but...the queen took something of ours and brought it into her bathing chambers. We have to get in there to get it back. Do you know a way in?"

The man regarded each of us for a long moment. "Hmm..." he murmured. Then he said, "I can see that you do not seek such a thing lightly. Then I suppose I must impart to you my most secret knowledge." He gestured to the pool, which I noticed then was running, not stagnant like I'd first assumed. "The water that flows by us here runs into the very chamber you seek," he told us. "Were you to immerse yourself in it, you would be swept straight into Her Majesty's most private of chambers. But I cannot vouch for the safety of such a passage. You may find yourself beaten and bruised after falling such a distance."

Erik straightened importantly. "I have fallen from the skies into a waterfall without suffering so badly," he said. I rolled my eyes. "A fall such as this would cause me no harm."

The man raised his eyebrows. "Well then," he said, "I would very much like to see how such a fall can be endured without harm. Show me your mastery of plummeting!" I could hear the teasing note in his voice, but Erik clearly didn't. The Celestrian boy moved to the centre of the pool and prepared to leap.

It was hard to resist the urge to shove him, but I did it. He leapt in and was sucked down into the water, making a rough-looking landing a moment later. His outline - and the outlines of everyone down in the chamber - were wildly distorted.

"Come on," I said. "Let's get back to the entrance to the baths. If he needs help, he won't tell us - we'll have to go in whether he likes it or not."

Once we got back to the corridor by the baths, it was less than a minute before a loud shriek pierced the air, accompanied by a sense of terror. I flinched back against the wall. "Dammit," I muttered. "Stupid lizard - stupid, stupid lizard - move!" I yelled then at the rude guard. "The queen's in trouble - get out of the way!"

Ignoring the increased pounding in my head, I raced forward and shoved my way into the chamber. Nick, Cristine, and the guard followed me in just in time to see Voluptua being carried away by a huge, twisted lizard that looked unnervingly like Drak. A strange feeling washed over me, an emotion twisted darkly by the fygg's power - but I recognized it all the same. Twisted and darkened, it was still the beautiful emotion that I'd felt through others so many times.

Drak leapt into a well and disappeared from view. The stone between him and me dampened the emotion, but I could still feel it. It made me shudder. And it seemed unnaturally strong - as did all the other emotions, ranging from confusion to fear to anger, that were whirling through the air around me. I put a hand to my head and massaged my temples. Almighty, this was awful...

But I wasn't left to peacefully curl up into a ball and die. I had to follow after Nick, Cristine, and Erik as they ran after Drak and Voluptua.

The well emptied out into what looked like a vast network of corridors and chambers, all of which were damp or sometimes slightly flooded. Every tiny noise seemed to echo and multiply off the wet stone walls, making their ways into my ears with noisy vengeance. Every emotion seemed stronger, whether it was my own or from someone around me. I could still faintly sense Voluptua's terror, and Drak's twisted feelings about her.

I stumbled, too much in pain from all the wildly overlapping sensations to be able to walk straight. "Keep going," I muttered, realising that the others had stopped. "I'll catch up -"

**_Tamara. _**

My eyes went wide. No way. She never talked when I was awake...

I could feel her disappointment, even though she wasn't anywhere near me. **_You cannot do this, Tamela, _**she told me.**_ You cannot simply try to block everything out and pretend all is well. _**

_Why are you waiting til now to tell me this? _I asked snappily.

**_I have tried before,_ **she told me, **_but you do not listen. Listen now, Tammy. Do not block the emotions. They will not disappear - if you try to block them out, they will do aught but drive you mad. Open up your mind and accept them!_**

No way. If they were this bad while I was blocking them out -

**_Do as I say, Tammy._**Mum's voice was calm and soothing. **_Trust me. Now open yourself to the emotions._**

I bit my lip hard but couldn't tell one bit of pain from another by that point. So finally, I gave up. I let my mind open up to the flood of emotions inside of me.

My eyes snapped wide as, for half a second, they overwhelmed me, filling me absolutely and crowding out everything that was _me_. I should have been terrified, but I wasn't. I couldn't be anything except what the emotions allowed.

And then they faded away into my consciousness, still resolutely there but not overwhelming. Now I was scared, but it faded away, too, and I felt more at peace than I had...well, probably ever. I could still feel everything, but it was muted, like memories. My head still hurt, but it was just the hangover, not all the emotions.

_I... Thank you, Mum._

I felt a quiet laugh and a sense of pleasure. **_You are welcome, my__ child, _**she told me. Then her tone grew more serious. **_But do not do what you did last night again. It is not fitting for anyone to be in such a__ pos__ition. _**

I hung my head sheepishly. _Yes, Mum._

**_I will see you again soon,_**_** Tammy...**_And I was willing to swear that I felt a gentle hand touch my shoulder as Mum's presence faded away.

* * *

There were some odd looks when I caught up to the others, but I ignored them. When Cristine asked what had happened, I just said, "I needed a second. There are loads of emotions flying round in here."

After that, it was ten or fifteen minutes until we heard Voluptua's voice again. "S-Someone help me!" she screamed, terrified. "I demand to be rescued this instant!"

Erik snorted.

"Well, she can't be in too much danger if she's going to be her usual self about it all," Nick said. "She can't be far now - let's hurry!"

We took the long way round, because what looked like a shortcut was blocked off by a huge pile of rubble. When we rounded the curve, we found Drak the giant lizard looming over Voluptua. Despite her height, she looked tiny compared to her pet.

"My llluscious Vollluptua," the lizard crooned in a hissing voice. "Now I have you all to myselllf, I can tell you how lllong I have llloved you..."

_Oh, Almighty!_

Love. _Love. That _was the beautiful emotion I'd been feeling, the thing I'd started longing for? Love - love was the thing I'd never really felt, either from others or for others? Almighty...

_ What's the matter with me!?_

I didn't get much time to wonder that, though, because Drak noticed us. "Ohhh llumme, it's you!" he hissed. "You're that traveller who lllifted me up and lllugged me back when I was lllaying lllow in that tree! You nearllly spoillled my plllans to use that fruit to realllise my willldest dreams! My animalll instincts tollld me that if I feasted on its flllesh, my body would remodelll itself into a fine mortalll form. And how right they were! Just lllook at me! Am I not the most alluring lllittle fellow you ever lllaid eyes on?" His excitement was unmistakable - as was his sheepishness as he said, "It may have worked a lllittle too well, I fear. My darllling Vollluptua seems alllmost too overwhelllmed to lllook at me..."

Stella snickered. "Dearie me," she said mirthfully. "The poor idiot thinks he's turned into a mortal. It's lucky there's no mirrors nearby."

And then Drak leaned forwards, and Stella fluttered back several metres. "Hm?" rumbled the lizard. "Did you say something?"

For once, the faerie was lost for words, and she could only splutter.

"Pah, never mind," spat Drak. He rose back to his full height. "Tell me, what are you doing here? Have you come to intrude upon the greatest lllove that ever lllived: that between my lllordllly selllf and the llluscious Vollluptua?"

Stella got her tongue back then, and fluttered forward. "You what? You've taken a shining to the Queen? But you're a flapping lizard!"

"LLLIES!" roared Drak furiously. Stella squealed and flew away. I flinched from the strength of Drak's anger. "I am no lllizard! I am finallly a mortalll, and our lllove can lllive at lllast! I willl not tolllerate these intrustions into our lllove nest! You willl llleave me and my bellloved allloooone!"

I lunged forwards, shoving Voluptua away from what I knew was going to become the scene of a battle. She tried to squawk indignantly but it didn't work. She was too scared.

Erik's claws ripped into the softer skin on Drak's belly. The lizard hissed in pain, but didn't get a chance to attack before Nick leapt forward and brought his staff down hard on Drak's shoulder. I followed up by parrying a golden-scaled claw heading for Nick's head and then stabbing at Drak's stomach. He hissed again. Dark red, steaming blood was dribbling from his cuts.

With a leap and a spin, Cristine sliced her fan into Drak's side. He roared, and my eyes went wide as I saw flames flicker in his nostrils. "Uh-oh," I muttered, and grabbed Cristine, who was closer. We ducked behind my shield as a torrent of flames left the lizard's mouth. _This thing has got to be half-melted by now!_

But suddenly, the torrent of flames stopped. I peeked up above the rim of my shield, wondering what was going on. Drak's little beady eyes had gone wide. "Mortallls do not lllaunch great big flllames from their mouths, do they... I really did not become one..." Then he stiffened his resolve and straightened up. Stilll, it matters not. I cannot alllow myself the llleisure of defeat. I cannot lllet my Vollluptua be taken back there... She must not return to the Mirage Mahalll... It is fulll of llliars and disllloyalll worms. I will die before I alllow it...!"

We readied our weapons again, preparing to spring, but then I heard a desperate voice from behind us. "Please!" it called. "Wait!"

All of us turned to look behind. Misslei hurried up to us, breathing heavily. "M-Misslei!" Voluptua stammered.

"Hahh...hahh..." Misslei heaved, getting her breath back. "Please, good travellers, you must wait! You must not harm His Dryness any further... Without him, there would... There would be no one with whom our Exalted Majesty could share her deepest thoughts and feelings!"

Voluptua started at the maiden, shocked. Then, shakily, she walked towards her. "But - Misslei, why?" she asked quietly. "Why would you do this for me after I was so horrible to you?"

Misslei bit her lip. "I cannot lie," she said with an air of confession. "I saw you, Highness. I saw you crying as you spoke to his Dryness... You told him you were ashamed of your selfishness... That you were lonely without your esteemed parents..." She was concerned, and sad. "I only wished that you had been able to share such feelings with us, your handmaidens, also. Perhaps if it were so, you could become a different person, and..." She trailed off, biting her lip again. She was afraid she'd said too much.

"Misslei..." Voluptua murmured.

"I feelll so foolllish..." Drak whispered. "If I had onllly stopped to see that there were kindllly soullls such as Misslllei in the palllace... But, lllump-headed lllizard that I am, I tried to take her from the one plllace fulll of peopllle who care about her."

Then he turned to look at us. "Travelller..." he said to Erik. "I can smelll that you are not mortalll either... And you seem to know a lllot about the golllden fruit. I do not relllish its power any lllonger. I lllong to return to my lllizardlly form and lllive happillly by Vollluptua's side. I relllinquish the fruit to you, travelllers. I can lllive happillly knowing that Vollluptua has llloyal llladies like Misslllei beside her."

His shape started to glow gold. "Thank you, celllestialll travelller..."

There was a bright flash, and then there was just little old Drak on the floor, fygg floating above him. It made its way into Erik's waiting arms.

I caught a sense of joy from Voluptua. "Drakky-Woo!" she crooned, walking over to the lizard and picking him up in her arms. "I always knew you were watching out for me! Weren't you, my Drakky-Wakky-Woo!"

* * *

After a second audience with Voluptua, we returned to the inn and decided to stay one more night in the desert city. I still kept my distance from Erik, but I felt a little awkward now. The peace that had come on me after I'd opened myself up to the emotions had shown me more than I liked about my own feelings, but they were still confused. Erik's accusation of jealousy still rankled...but it left me feeling uncertain, too.

One thing that did make me happy, though, was seeing how animated Cristine and Nick seemed while they talked to each other that afternoon. The conversation wasn't anything out of the ordinary, and it wasn't just them talking, but it gave me a sense of that same emotion..._love..._

I tried not to dwell on it too much. I knew that it would just leave me feeling even more confused. So I tried to throw myself more wholeheartedly into our conversations. It was hard, though.

That night, I went to bed early. I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

_And I opened my eyes in the Faerie forest. Twenty paces away was Mum's tree. I walked over to it. I would have hurried, but somehow that didn't seem possible there. The place was too peaceful to hurry. _Mum?

**I am here, Tammy.**

_And then, to my surprise, a figure began to materialise at the foot of the tree. It resolved itself into a tall woman with brown eyes, fair skin, and long blue hair. When she moved, tiny sparks of blue and silver flashed around her and drifted downwards. She smiled and approached me. _**How I have longed to see you in the flesh, my dear.**

_I couldn't help staring. Despite the fact that she was loads prettier, Mum looked an awful lot like me. _

_She laughed softly. _**Indeed?** _she said, raising an eyebrow._ **Come, Tammy. Stand next to me. **

_So I did. Mum put an arm around my shoulders and led me through the trees to a small pool. It was perfectly still. I could see our reflections in it, and I was surprised. As beat up as I looked from having spent the past five years of my life travelling and fighting, I was...pretty. Almost as pretty as Mum. _Whoa. When did _that_ happen?

**When you opened your eyes.** _Mum was still smiling. _**Others' emotions can give you a true view of yourself. Now Tammy, follow me - I cannot stay like this for long, and there is something I must do.**

What is it?_ I asked, following her back to her tree. _

_She shook her head. _

_When we reached the tree, she reached up and pulled something from off a branch. Then she brought her arm down. In her hand, she held a leather drawstring pouch half the size of my fist. _

**One day, Tammy, you will need to help a friend when help seems impossible to give, **_she told me. _**Use this then.** _She gathered the blue and silver sparks, which I realised then weren't sparks at all. They were shining particles of dust. _

_Gently, she poured a handful into the bag. Then she drew it shut and placed it in my hand, closing my fingers around it. _**Your mortal blood dilutes the power of your Faerie half. It cannot ever be drawn out to the strength of a full-blooded Faerie, but my dust will bring it to the greatest possible power in you. You must use the entire bag. And remember - though it cannot stop you from being mortal, it _will_ change you. Use it only when the need is greatest - when you must help, even when help is impossible to give.** _She looked down at me solemnly. _**You are growing, my dear, and will grow still more before this adventure is done. I am proud to see that you have become such a strong young woman. **

_I felt myself blush. Mum smiled and kissed my forehead. As her figure began to dematerialise, I said, _Wait - I need to ask you something.

**What is it, Tammy?**

_I wasn't quite sure how to phrase it. _I... I mean, you... Well... Mum, Dad told me that you died in childbirth,_ I said. _Was he telling the truth?

_Mum paused. Her shape was blurring and fading back into the tree. _**He was, as far as it was the truth he knew, **_Mum said. _**I did leave the world of the mortals. However -** _her voice began to fade - _**it is difficult to say whether or not one ever truly dies. For if the soul lives on, does that not mean that one is still there? Perhaps we cannot see or touch them, but if their soul lives on, then so too does their essence - that which makes them who they are. It is a question which has hounded all peoples - Faeries, mortals, and Celestrians alike - since the beginning of time. **_I couldn't see her any more, but I knew she was smiling. _**Just a little food for thought. **


	16. Chapter 16

"SO YOU LEFT home when you were eleven years old?" Nick asked as he and Cristine sat in the rigging of the _Pride. _

Cristine nodded. "Well, I decided when I was about three that I wanted to be a minstrel," she said, leaning back. "I wasn't planning to leave until I was about fifteen or so - you know, old enough to support myself even if the minstrel thing didn't work. But then when I was eleven, Mum and Dad died." She looked down. "After that, there wasn't really anything left for me in Coffinwell. I had some friends there, sure, and people who would take care of me, but even though I still consider it my home, it's not the same without Mum and Dad. So when Tammy showed up and we clicked, I decided to take off with her." She smiled a little. "It's funny. I feel like doing this - being a minstrel, I mean - helped me cope. Mum and Dad were always really supportive. They put up with me singing all hours of the day and night, dancing round the house...breaking things before I got to be more graceful..." She laughed. "It's... I dunno. It just feels right."

They sat there quietly for a moment, feeling the breeze in their hair. Then Cristine turned to Nick. "So what about you?" she asked. "I know your dad is the captain of the guards in Stornway...why are you trying to become a priest instead?"

Nick shrugged. "I just...felt more at home in church than in training," he said. "My mam and dad aren't particularly religious; I guess I just ended up picking up what everyone else in my family lacked in faith." He laughed. "It's done good, anyway. I feel like I have a strong relationship with the Almighty, and I can help people here in the world, too. To me, it feels like I've found the best job there is...if I can get ordained, anyway."

Cristine nodded again, looking away. They were cutting through the waves at a quick pace, and the Urdus Marshland wasn't far from Gleeba, anyway. They'd be making landfall in a few minutes.

"Well, I hope it works out that we can get to Swinedimples at the right time," she said, smiling. "And then maybe we can find out which one of us is right about how good their programmes are."

Nick smiled, too. "I hope so, too," he replied. "And I can't wait for the evidence to prove me right."

Cristine laughed. "Oh, silly boy," she said, starting down the rigging. "You're so naive - don't you know by know that the girl's always right? Because even if she's wrong...she's right."

"That makes no sense," Nick told her, following her down.

But he laughed, too.

Laughing was easy when he was talking to Cristine.

* * *

We made landfall in the Urdus Marshlands not long after nine that morning. As soon as everything was in order, we disembarked and headed inland towards the Iluugazar Plains. It was going to be a long walk.

I ended up falling a little farther back than I normally would have. Nick and Cristine were further up, picking the driest path through the mud. Erik was striding along between us, hands shoved in his trouser pockets. I was walking in the back. I tried to keep my gaze on the mountain pass that led into the Iluugazar Plains, but it kept drifting over to the lanky, silver-haired figure walking alone in front of me.

_Darn it..._

What I'd said to him the day before wouldn't get out of my head. _"Arrogant - self-satisfied - rude - bossy - inconsiderate - pompous - holier-than-thou... I pity the poor fool who has the misfortune to catch your eye."_ Much as the Celestrian boy annoyed me sometimes...well, most of the time...I still felt guilty about snapping at him like I had. Especially now, after following Mum's advice had left me knowing more but still not quite enough about my feelings. _  
_

_"Rude...inconsiderate..."_

I didn't normally do stuff like that, so I didn't usually feel like this. The squirming in my gut reminded me of how I'd felt when I had been leaving Cristine in the dark about my abilities and why I was always disappearing, except that now it was stronger, more immediate. It was uncomfortable. I didn't like it.

_"The misfortune to catch your eye..."_

My eyes pulled away from the pass again and back to Erik. I sighed.

Why was I feeling so guilty? He certainly wouldn't have felt like this if he'd been the one to snap at me. There was absolutely no reason to feel this way.

And then something crossed my mind that I never would have thought I'd find myself thinking.

_Maybe I should apologise. _

After that, I couldn't get that thought out of my head. Everything about me rejected the idea. Apologise? To Erik? What good would it do? The only thing it would do would be inflate his ego. I couldn't apologise to him.

But on one level, it almost seemed like a good idea. The sense of relief I'd felt when I'd told Cristine about me came to mind. Surely telling Erik I was sorry couldn't give me that same feeling...but I almost thought it could.

No. No way. Let him come to me and tell me _he _was sorry. He, after all, was the one who acted that way in the first place - arrogant, self-satisfied, rude, bossy, inconsiderate, pompous, holier-than-thou...

But even thinking the words made my innards twist guiltily.

I bit my lip and kept walking for a moment. Then I glanced back at Erik. I sighed.

This was going to bother me for a long, long time if I didn't do anything about it.

_I can't believe I'm doing this,_ I thought as I lengthened my stride. _Seriously. This is a bad idea. You're just going to make his already huge head even bigger. Why are you doing this?_

I didn't really have an answer, but I kept going anyway.

"Erik?"

My voice was quieter than usual, but it was loud enough to catch his attention. He didn't turn, but I saw him start.

"Erik, listen, I need to talk to you."

He still didn't turn around.

I narrowed my eyes. "Erik -" I caught his arm. "Erik, please just listen to me for five seconds so I can apologise!"

_That_ made him stop. He looked at me, silver brows furrowed. "So you can _what_?" he asked.

I gritted my teeth and let out a long breath. "Apologise," I said, opening my eyes and meeting his. "So please let me talk, because I'm perilously close to not doing it now!"

He raised his eyebrows but gestured for me to continue.

I sighed, digging my hands into my pockets and starting to walk beside him. "I'm sorry I snapped at you yesterday," I said. "It was out of line, and even though I felt it to be true at the time, I oughtn't to have said it. You've really been getting more bearable lately, and I shouldn't have let something like that irritate me to that point. So... I'm sorry, Erik."

For a long moment, he walked silently, scanning my face. I wasn't really sure what I felt from him. There were too many different things, and they seemed a little more distant than before. I supposed I preferred it, though, in comparison to the overwhelming flow of emotions I'd felt before I'd taken Mum's advice.

Finally, he nodded slowly and said, "Your apology is noted...I will be sure to inform you when acceptance is received."

I smiled a little. "I'll be waiting on the edge of my seat."

He snorted softly.

"You _were_ hung over yesterday, were you not?" he asked after a moment.

I sighed. "Yeah, I was. It was stupid. I was irritated, and I decided to go for a drink...and then another."

Erik raised an eyebrow. "Only two? And you were hung over the next day?"

"In my defence, they were very strong," I said. "I've a strong head usually - two drinks might leave me a bit tipsy, but certainly not hammered like I was." I rolled my shoulders. "They didn't really taste all that great til I was already well on my way to being wasted, either. A tip, Erik - if you ever go back to Gleeba, don't get the Desert's Throat."

"I will keep that in mind."

We walked along in silence for a moment, slapping at a couple bugs along the way. I glanced forwards at Cristine and Nick, who were still talking animatedly. I smiled.

"They look so happy."

Erik looked up at them. He didn't quite smile, but his brows unknotted a little. "They do," he agreed.

I looked at them for a while longer, and then laughed a little. "I really want to go bother them."

Erik rolled his eyes. "You are a strange girl, Tammy."

I laughed louder this time. "Oh, come on - it'll be fun!" I took hold of his arm and ran forwards. Then I burst in between Nick and Cristine with a rousing chorus of "Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall".

Cristine jumped, Nick laughed, and even Erik joined in as we started singing, _"Ninety-nine bottles of beer!_

_"Take one down, pass it around, _

_"Ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall!"_

* * *

We had long since taken down the last bottle of beer by the time we reached the other end of the mountain pass, where it opened up into the Iluugazar Plains. I could see clearly for ages. The current location of the nomad village Batsureg was only a couple miles further.

So it wasn't too much longer before we reached the yurts. When we got there, I was struck by the similarity of the arrangement to the one Cristine and I had encountered last time we'd been there six months ago. And the one before that. I supposed it was something to do with their ever-changing lifestyle - any bit of consistency was probably welcome.

We stopped by the stores briefly. Erik got a new pair of claws - handrills - and Nick got a lightning staff and a pair of green tights to go under his robes. The tights were a practicality. The plains were much chillier than anywhere we'd been so far this journey.

As we wandered through the village after that, I caught sight of a familiar weather-tanned face, dark hair, and slender dark eyes. "Batzorig!" I called. "Batzorig, how are you?"

The nomad boy turned, and I paused a little. He'd clearly grown - filled out and grown a bit taller. And he looked more...chiselled. He'd gotten kind of handsome.

"Tammy," he replied. "Cristine. What brings you to the plains this day? And who are these new companions?"

"This is Nick," Cristine said, "and Erik. We've been travelling together recently. So how've you been doing?"

His features darkened briefly. "I have been with rather more stress of late. My sixteenth birthday is tomorrow and I am not sure either my father or I are prepared."

"Oh." I knew enough about nomad culture to know what he was talking about. Sixteen was the age of adulthood among the nomads, and as the son of the chief, Batzorig took over the running of the tribe on his sixteenth birthday.

"Well, I'm sure you'll be a great leader," Cristine said, smiling. "You know everything there is to know about life here."

Batzorig nodded absently, glancing off towards his father's yurt. "Thank you, Cristine," he said then, looking back. "What business brings the four of you to our plains?"

"We are searching for a golden fruit," Erik said immediately. "Have you heard of such a thing in this area?"

"Hm..." Batzorig put a hand to his face, thinking. "I do not think so. But then, I have been distracted of late. Perhaps you will be with more luck if you ask the other villagers. Please, excuse me - I must attend to something."

He nodded cordially and left.

"See, Erik," I said after a moment, "_that's _how you leave when you're done with something. Make a pretense of being nice about it. People are a little more mollified than if you just get up and walk away."

He rolled his eyes. "Come," he said. "Let us ask about the fygg."

But our luck wasn't any better anywhere else in the village. None of the nomads had heard about the fygg. One, though, gave us a suggestion.

"Perhaps you should ask Sarantsatsral," she told us.

"Saran - _who_?" I asked. I couldn't even remember the rest of the name, let alone repeat it back.

"Sarantsatsral," repeated the nomad. "She is the good witch who has recently become adviser to our wise chief Batkhaan. She has travelled widely and knows much about places that we nomads have little knowledge of. Perhaps she will be with the knowledge of where you may find such a fruit."

"Thank you," Nick said. "We'll certainly keep that in mind."

The woman nodded as we left.

Then I looked round at the others. "A witch?"

"A _good_ witch," Cristine said, though I could hear the doubt in her tone.

Erik snorted. "I have heard of a great many good mages, but never a good witch."

Nick glanced towards Batkhann's tent. "If it's our best shot, though..."

We all hesitated. Then, slowly, we started to nod. "If it's our best shot," I echoed. "Come on, then. Let's go meet this Sarantsatsral."

* * *

Ninety-eight bottles...

Okay, so that was probably a little stupid, but what group of friends doesn't do anything stupid once in a while? Besides, my brother thought it was hilarious when I told it to him. Oh, well...

I don't know why Batzorig keeps ending up being described as handsome in my fanfics; I mean, he's okay-looking in the games, but he's not _that _great. Dunno. Maybe it's just that I like the idea of the cute Asian guy ^_^

Aaaanyway...

May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	17. Chapter 17

"I AM THE tribe chief, Batkhaan. You must be the visitors from the land across the seas."

We nodded. I didn't bother being surprised that Batkhaan knew about us. Rumours travelled quickly in a place as small as Batsureg.

The tall, dark-haired, veiled woman standing to the right of Batkhaan's throne surveyed us with piercing green eyes. "Intriguing..." she mumured. "An intruguing character. Greetings. I am Sarantsatsral. How are you called?"

I looked at her funny, but she didn't notice. It seemed like all her attention was focused on Erik. I crossed my arms, mouth twisting into a petulant frown.

Erik introduced all four of us, but Sarantsatsral didn't even glance away from him. "And what brings you to the great plains, Erik?"

"We're looking for a shining fruit," Cristine said. "Have you seen one?" Her voice was even, but there was a little bit of rigidity in her usually graceful, flowing posture that made me realise that she was a little irritated at Sarantsatsral ignoring us, too.

The witch woman blinked. "You come in search of a fruit that shines?" she asked, piercing eyes flickering away. "I...I know of no such thing."

I looked at her suspiciously, but before I could say anything Batkhaan looked at Sarantsatsral. "What troubles you, Sarantsatsral?" he asked. "It is unlike you to react so. Has this careless traveller given you offence?"

Then he set his jaw and looked at us. "The conversation is concluded," he said in a tone that brooked no argument. "We are with no knowledge of such a fruit. Leave us."

I opened my mouth to argue, but Cristine touched my arm warningly. For a moment, I considered ignoring it, but then I decided it would be better for all concerned if I just didn't talk.

"Your forgiveness, please," Sarantsatsral said, still focusing only on Erik. "The chief is a man with much business to attend. Perhaps you will visit again soon..."

But it was an offer of base courtesy, not actually an invitation. I kept from rolling my eyes until we were turned around and heading towards the yurt entrance.

Then there was a voice from outside: "Father, you summoned me?"

Batkhaan sighed audibly. "Your lack of punctuality brings disrespect upon your father, Batzorig. Where have you been?"

Batzorig entered and made two bows - one each to his father and Sarantsatsral. "Forgive me," he said. "I was thinking on many things, and time escaped me."

We moved out of the way as Batzorig approached the throne.

"It is good that you busy yourself with such ruminations," Sarantsatsral said approvingly. "It is fit for a future chief to be with great consideration."

Batzorig inclined his head. "I thank you, Sarantsatsral," he said. "Only you speak such kind words to me."

"In any case, Batzorig," Batkhaan said, "it is I who have summoned you here. You know, of course, of the beast that has attempted to harm me."

I blinked.

_Beast?_ Nick mouthed.

Erik shrugged.

"I wish for you to hunt it down and destroy it. You are the son of a chief. Such tasks are fitting to one of your standing."

Batzorig drew himself to his full height. "Of course, Father," he said. "I will honour your name and hunt the beast as you request." Then he hesitated. My eyebrows pulled together. Every time I'd met Batzorig, he'd come across as a solid kid - someone who'd do what he needed to without pausing, and would do it to the best of his abilities. And the tone in his voice seemed odd as he said, "But to carry out such an undertaking requires careful preparation. Allow me some time before I am to set out."

Batkhaan was halfway through nodding his agreement when someone outside screamed. "Everybody! Come quickly!"

Distracted, everyone turned towards the opening in the yurt. "Such clamour!" Sarantsatsral exclaimed. "Something is wrong outside."

"Argh!" yelled another voice. "The beast comes!"

Batkhaan stood, and his weather-beaten skin went several shades paler. "No!" he cried. "It is among us again! The infernal beast!"

Then he glanced at his son, who had frozen to the spot. "You are prepared, Batzorig?" he asked urgently. "The time has come for you to defeat our enemy!"

Batzorig didn't turn. "I, I must make battle with the beast so soon...?" he murmured. I wasn't sure what I saw in his expression, but what I felt from him wasn't fear. It was reluctance, but...I wasn't quite sure what about. Somehow, it didn't go with what he did next: shaking his head and saying, "B-But! I cannot! I am without strength!"

And then, to my utter shock, he turned and ran to the bed and crouched down beside it, shivering. But still, what I felt from him didn't match. He wasn't scared.

Batkhaan looked at him in something almost verging on contempt. "Without strength or without courage?" he asked, perfectly loud enough for Batzorig to hear. "So be it. If my son is weak, I will deal with the beast myself."

"Wait, Batkhaan!" cried Sarantsatsral. "If you are harmed, who will lead our tribe?"

That made Batkhaan pause long enough for Sarantstsral to approach us - or Erik, more specifically. "Erik, you appear to be a warrior of some strength," she said. "You could defeat this beast, could you not?"

Erik hesitated. "I believe so," he said.

"Will you stand in the chief's stead and rescue our village from peril?" Sarantsatsral asked. I glared at her suspiciously. There was nothing in her tone to suggest the least ill meaning, but I didn't trust her. Not to mention the fact that for some reason, her emotions were suddenly shielded. I couldn't sense anything from her.

But even though I could tell Erik didn't trust the witch woman any more than me, he nodded. "If that is what is necessary."

Sarantsatsral laughed softly. "We are with gratitude," she said. "Now, go forth and face the beast."

Nick, Cristine, and I made to walk out with him, but he put out an arm to stop us. "Stay in here," he said.

"Excuse me?" I asked. "And what are we supposed to do while we wait for you to go out alone and fight the big mean monster that this whole tribe - hunters all, by the way, and accomplished ones too - can't seem to take down?"

"Await my return," Erik said, shrugging. Then he leaned a little closer and whispered, "And try not to get jealous while I am away."

I swear he was smirking. He certainly felt like doing it. I stared after him, mouth open in outrage. _I can't believe him!_

"You are not with the mind to fight the beast, I hope?" Batzorig called. We all glanced back to see that he had half turned, facing us with a pleading expression that his father and Sarantsatsral couldn't have seen from their position. "I am with great far that you will receive an injury fighting for nomads you barely know. Please stop!"

Erik looked back at him, and for a long moment violet eyes met dark eyes in silent communication. Finally Erik said, "I have given my word. And I give it again: I shall come back unharmed."

And without another word, he turned and strode out of the tent.

"It travels towards you!" cried a voice from outside. I heard panicked voices and dozens of hurried footsteps, along with a deeper, heavier set - the beast.

"Block its path!"

The nomads were terrified of the beast - I could tell that much - but they didn't hesitate before doing what they felt was their duty. I was impressed. There weren't many people I knew who were that brave.

And then there was a long, low growl, and I couldn't stop myself. I sprinted outside, drawing my sword in preparation to help Erik fight off the beast.

But instead, I found Erik having what looked like a staring contest with a badboon. I blinked. That was odd.

After a long moment, the badboon growled again, and then dodged away. I hurried a few steps after it and watched it run out of the village. Amazement and excitement from the nomads swirled around me, but I ignored it. I was more focused on the retreating emotions of the badboon.

_That's no ordinary monster..._

* * *

"Hm," Batkhaan said, regarding Erik back in the yurt. "You have great courage." He glanced over at Batzorig, who was still crouched by the bed. "Though I wish that the might on which he depended was his own..." Then he sighed.

Sarantsatsral looked over towards the nomad boy. "Fear no more, Batzorig," she said. "It is done. You are safe."

Slowly, Batzorig stood up. Erik, Nick, Cristine, and I moved out of the way so he could stand in front of the throne. "Forgive me, Father, for I am without courage," he said, bowing his head. "I am a disappointment for you."

"Batzorig," Batkhaan said, leaning forwards, "one day you must lead our tribe. How will you do so if you fear such beasts?"

_But he doesn't!_ I thought. Fear had had no part in what Batzorig had been feeling. Determination, certainly, and cunning and perhaps worry, but nothing of fear. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what was going on.

"You are right, Father. I have no excuse. My spirit was honourable, but my spine deserted me when the moment came."

The words fell into silence, and it was a moment before anyone said anything else. Then Batkhaan spoke: "Then you will be given another chance, Batzorig. A chance for your spirit to triumph over your spine."

Batzorig's dark eyes went wide. "B-But, Father!" he exclaimed. "I cannot!" His tone was urgent.

Footsteps entered the tent. Batkhaan pointed to his son and cried, "Men! Take my weak-willed son away and make him the hunter he cannot bring himself to be!"

Two red-garbed nomads leapt and grabbed Batzorig, pinning his arms to his sides. I started towards him but tripped over something I couldn't see. The others tripped over me, and we all hit the floor hard.

"No!" Batzorig snarled, struggling hard enough to give the two men a good contest. "Do not touch me! Help! Stop them, Sarantsatsral!"

But the witch woman didn't move, and the nomads dragged the struggling boy out of the yurt. I could hear him yelling at them for a good minute after they left.

There was a long silence, during which I stared after Batzorig with my mouth open a little more than it needed to be. Then I heard Batkhaan's voice from behind me. "When I imagine him as the next tribe chief, my head is with such worry that I cannot sleep." He sighed heavily. This weighed on his conscience. _As it should!_

"But he is such a dear boy, with such a great attachment to me," Sarantsatsral said. "I cannot feel disappointed in him."

I struggled to keep from rolling my eyes.

"Forgive us, travellers, for such a dishonourable display," Batkhaan said then, and we turned. "That was my son, Batzorig. My tribe will be as a herd with no bull if he becomes chief. If you wish to build high, you must dig deep. It is my duty as his father to give him confidence. But I ponder how."

Sarantsatsral's piercing eyes went wide. "Ah-ha!" she cried. "An idea has come to me! You spoke that you came here in search of a fruit that shines, did you not?" When Erik nodded, Sarantsatsral's veil moved like she was smiling. "Then offer your assistance in the fight against the beast. But you must allow Batzorig to strike the final blow. If you fulfill this task, we will aid you in your search for the fruit. We would not wish you to come to harm in your search..."

I looked at her suspiciously.

"May it be so. If Sarantsatsral believes this to be the right path, then I am in harmony with it. My son prepares himself at the yurts to the north of our village. Go to him, and lend him your might."

As we left the tent, Stella popped out. "I'm not exactly wild about helping out such a damp blanket of a boy, but if it gets us closer to a fygg, I suppose it's worth it..."

I shook my head. "Batzorig doesn't need our help," I said. "Cristine and I have met him before, and he's not a coward. Something's going on here. I don't trust that Sarantsatsral - and there's something weird about that badboon."

"Badboon?" Nick asked.

"The beast they spoke of," Erik answered.

Cristine pursed her lips. "Huh," she said. "That's odd. Badboons don't usually live around here."

"I know," I said. "Come on. Batzorig's the only one who'll be able to explain all this."

* * *

"Why do you hesitate to begin the hunt?" asked a voice from inside of one of the hunting yurts north of Batsureg. "How are you to follow in the footsteps of your father if you do not?"

"Your words mean nothing in the fact of the ugly truth," Batzorig replied coolly. "I am struck rigid with fear at the very sight of the beast..."

"You there! Who are you? What is your business?"

Erik, Nick, Cristine, and I all jumped as we realised that the last voice hadn't come from inside the yurt. A nomad was hurrying towards us. "Outsiders!" he exclaimed. "Follow me!" And then he shoved past us into the yurt. We looked around at each other. Nick shrugged. So we followed the guy inside.

The two nomads who had dragged Batzorig out of his father's yurt were already there, as was Batzorig himself, who was standing with his arms folded and a scowl on his face. "Batzorig," Cristine said, "we came to see you."

His scowl lessened slightly. "What intention do you have with me?" he asked.

Briefly, Erik explained what Sarantsatsral and Batkhaan had asked.

"Our chief requested you to assist with the defeat of the beast?" asked one nomad.

The other's eyes lit up. "This warrior -" he gestured to Erik - "scared the beast away from Batsureg. With such valour beside you, you cannot be with fear, Batzorig."

And then the last one spoke. "Come, young master! We must set out with haste!"

The scowl came back then, and Batzorig turned to the other nomads. "Such stubborn insistance! Stubborn as a mule! I will say again for the last time that I will not pursue the beast." And then he strode out. I could feel him simmering with irritation.

"A great shame," sighed one of the nomads. "Even foul water will put out a fire, yet Batzorig refuses to extinguish this menace."

I rolled my eyes. "Come on," I muttered. "Let's just talk to Batzorig."

He was sitting in the other yurt, his head down on the table. Worry and irritation rolled off of him in waves.

"Batzorig?"

He jumped. "Tammy..." He rose. We walked over to him. He nodded to us. "Erik, you spoke that my father requested you to aid me in my task, did you not?"

Erik nodded.

"The people are all with the belief that the beast desires to take the life of my father. Do you also see it so?" He looked around, looking each of us in the eye. There was a distinct note of challenge in his voice.

We all looked back at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, Erik and I shook our heads, at the same time that Cristine nodded hers and Nick just shrugged.

Batzorig examined us again. "I see..." he said. "I must attend to something. Forgive me."

Then he walked out. I sighed. Erik raised an eyebrow. "Odd," he said. "He is much like my master. That is the same excuse he always gave in order to escape company..."

"And the one you always give, too," I pointed out.

"Only when I have something that I truly do need to attend to. In case you do not recall, both times I used that excuse, I was returning to the Starflight Express."

"Tammy, do you really believe that that badboon isn't trying to kill Batkhaan?" Cristine asked. "I mean, everyone seems convinced."

I shrugged. "'Everyone'," I said. "When has the fact that 'everyone' thinks or does something ever swayed me? Did I ever change into something more modest because 'everyone' wore stuff like that?" I grinned.

Cristine rolled her eyes, smiling. "Almighty, don't bring that up."

I laughed. "Come on," I said. "Let's go after Batzorig and make him tell us what's up. Whether Erik and I are right or not, we ought to find out what's going on. And even if we are wrong, well, there's always Sarantsatsral to figure out."

Nick shook his head. "There's something strange about that woman," he said as we headed out after Batzorig. "I hate to say it because I don't know and I oughtn't to judge, but she's...not normal."

"It may simply be that she is a witch," Erik said. "I have read many a tale about her kind - all of them true, recorded by Celestrians over the millennia- and not a one features a witch who is an ordinary mortal in behaviour. But then, not a one featured a good witch, either. I do not believe that Sarantsatsral is to be trusted."

"Finally, something we can agree on!" I gave a loud, mocking sigh of relief. "I've got to tell you, it feels pretty nice. Weird, but nice!"

Cristine laughed. "Maybe Tammy's a witch," she said teasingly. "She's weird enough!"

"Shut up," I replied, but I laughed, too.

"Why - going to turn me into a frog?" Cristine asked, dancing back. She grinned.

I rolled my shoulders and arms round a little. "Maybe," I said casually. "Never have seen a dancing frog. I think it'd be interesting, don't you?" I looked at the boys, eyebrows raised.

Nick took a step in front of Cristine, blue eyes sparkling with humour. "I don't think I want her as a frog," he said. "I like her human."

"What - do you mean you wouldn't like me as a frog?" Cristine put a hand to her heart in mock sorrow.

He laughed. "Well, I suppose if you were a frog it would be easier to do - _this_!" He grabbed her hands and swung her round in a big circle. Erik and I ducked to get out of the way of Cristine's sandaled feet, which were flying through the air. I was laughing. Erik rolled his eyes, but I swear to the Almighty he was almost smiling again. He wanted to, I could tell.

So I grabbed his arms and announced, "Your turn!"

I couldn't spin him up into the air - lanky as he was, I had no doubt that he was heavier than me - but by dint of a little momentum, I got the two of us going in a circle. "Almighty - Tammy - stop it!" he cried, but I didn't, and as we spun round I saw the smile. I grinned and got us going faster.

And then I heard something I'd never heard before: Erik laughed.

I stopped in shock, and we fell down across from each other. My eyes were wide. "Almighty!" I said. "I didn't know you could! Where in the world did you learn to laugh, Erik?"

Which of course made him stop laughing, stop smiling, and give me a look from where he sat sprawled on the grass.

I laughed and got up. "Ah, spoilsport. Here." I held out a hand to help him up.

He took it and pulled me down, then got up himself.

Nick and Cristine were both laughing. I rolled over onto my side and popped up, punching Erik in the shoulder as I did so. "You little -" I said, and then started fishing for a word bad enough.

Erik was struggling with a grin. "Well, as Stella would say - playing with Celestrians a girl can get burnt," he told me.

I rolled my eyes. "She would say that." Then I glanced around. "What're we all staring at, eh? Come on, let's get moving!"

Nick and Cristine both laughed as we headed north after Batzorig's retreating figure.

We followed him north across a bridge, west, and then around a path to a cave on the side of Mount Ulbaruun. It was dim inside - the entry was small and it was only lit with torches. But it was bright enough for us to see Batzorig and the badboon, standing in front of what looked like a gravestone.

"Such a method might result in Sarantsatsral's defeat, but your death would be guaranteed also..." Batzorig was saying. "If you are dead, my mother will be with great sadness in her new world. Life is not to be thrown away like a well-gnawed bone. You must remain here and guard the grave of my beloved mother. Do you understand, Khoonbish?"

I was shocked to feel the reluctance from the badboon as it growled agreement.

Batzorig stooped to hug the badboon - Khoonbish - and then rose, turned, and saw us. "Y-You!" he stammered. "How is it that you have come here?"

He and Khoonbish approached us. "Hmm... You have heard our conversation. This cannot be helped. I must tell you the truth in its entirety." He gestured to Khoonbish. "The beast is my friend. He is called Khoonbish. Long ago, my mother and I found him injured on the plains and gave him assistance. Then we became friends. Khoonbish's target in our village was not my father, but Saratsatsral." I heard the snarl behind the name, but it wasn't in Batzorig's voice - it was in his mind. "She deceives our peaceful people with trickery, and plots evil deeds. I have feigned idiocy and cowardice to make her without suspicion of me, but I cannot create a plan to oust her. This is the full truth." He bowed his head to us. "Please, you must keep it hidden from all others' ears. And now, I must return to the yurts. Farewell."

He and Khoonbish left. I watched after them and smiled as I felt Khoonbish's pleasure - Batzorig seemed to have forgotten he'd told the badboon to stay put.

Then a swell of foreboding came over me and I turned back to the grave. The ghost of a serious woman had materialised on top of the stone.

"Beloved Batzorig..." she said. "Take great care, my child. Sarantsatsral plots your death."

* * *

Ooh...fun day, isn't it? Well, up til the end, at least ^_^

Murder plots, brave men gone cowards gone brave again, _Erik laughing..._boy, I didn't expect that one! But then, I didn't expect anyone to start talking about frogs, either. And then, of course, there's a nice little anachronism...or is it an anachronism? It's way ahead of its time, sure, but it's in a different world, too... Oh, well. My friends who were in Fiddler this spring will be very pleased with me.

Anyway, we're not travelling anymore, but we're still on holiday. Depending on how much we travel until school starts again, I'll hopefully have plenty of time to write. So let's see if Erik laughs again, shall we?

May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	18. Chapter 18

_The ghost of a serious woman had materialised on top of the stone._

_"Beloved Batzorig..." she said. "Take great care, my child. Sarantsatsral plots your death."_

* * *

A chill went through the air as Tammy stiffened and turned back towards the grave. Cristine knew what had happened. "Oh dear," she sighed quietly. "She sees something again."

Nick touched her hand reassuringly. "Well, let's see what she can see, then," he murmured back, and smiled a little.

Cristine smiled, too, and she and Nick turned to watch Tammy and Erik respond to something that wasn't there.

"Death?" Tammy breathed. "You mean...Sarantsatsral's trying to kill him!?"

"What?" Cristine asked.

Erik nodded, but Cristine didn't think it was an answer to her question. She sighed. "I don't like this...I don't like it at all."

"Me neither," Nick whispered. "Tammy - what's going on?"

Tammy glanced back at them. "There's a ghost on the grave - Batzorig's mum. She says...she says that Sarantsatsral's planning to kill Batzorig." She looked back towards the grave. "I'll tell you if she says anything else important."

Nick and Cristine looked at each other. Cristine bit her lip. "I suppose everyone was right," she said quietly. "Not to be trusted, indeed..."

They were quiet for a moment. Erik and Tammy were listening attentively to something, and Cristine was straining her ears, too. When she did, she managed to make out a faint whispering in the air. She couldn't for the life of her figure out what it was saying, though.

Nick was fiddling with his rosary. Cristine knew he didn't realise he was doing it. She smiled and put a hand over his to stop it moving.

"You'll rub all the carvings off," she whispered. "Let it be."

When she took her hand away, he dropped his from the beads. Cristine grasped it.

Finally, the ghost seemed to have finished. Erik turned and said, "Come - we must get to Mount Ulzuun quickly."

Tammy, Nick, and Cristine followed after him.

"So can you tell us why we're going to Mount Ulzuun?" Nick asked. "Unless this is just Erik being Erik again."

Tammy rolled her eyes. "Well, it is," she said, "but that's not why we're going. Bayarmaa - the ghost - she said that there's a village in Mount Ulzuun that has this special grass. Bodura grass, she called it. She said it would help Batzorig."

Cristine raised her eyebrows. "So specific," she said, and laughed.

Nick and Tammy laughed, too. "Well, yeah," Tammy said, "but then, the nomads usually aren't. Not even ghost nomads. Either way, I don't think it matters much. We have to help Batzorig, right?"

Nick nodded. "Especially if that witch is trying to kill him."

Tammy nodded grimly and shoved her hands in her pockets as they headed east.

The land around Mount Ulzuun was barren and monster-filled. Cristine suppressed a shudder as they circumnavigated a pool of acid. Something about this place was wrong. She didn't like it one bit.

Behind Tammy, a ghoul pulled itself out of the dirt. "Tammy, look out -!" Cristine yelled.

Tammy whirled round, drawing her sword just in time to stab the ghoul through the throat. It gurgled and collapsed to the ground. Tammy made a face and wiped her blade on a patch of shrivelled grass. "Well, if that's not disgusting, I don't know what is," she said conversationally.

"At least you do not have to clean it up," Erik pointed out without turning. "That is the only convenient thing about monsters - they turn to dust when they die."

And already, the ghoul had done just that.

The land only got worse as they wove their way through acid pools to a huge, dark opening in the side of Mount Ulzuun. Cristine looked at it uneasily.

"It certainly doesn't look like much of a village, does it?" she asked. "I wouldn't want to live there, anyway."

"No," Nick agreed. "But to each his own, I suppose."

The inside of the mountain was lit by the light from the entrance and a few ghostly-looking torches. There was just enough light to see yurts, faded and torn, and a complete absence of any human life.

"Lovely," Tammy muttered.

A gate blocked the four of them from going any further into the village. It was locked, a fact that Erik discovered when he tried to shove it open.

Then the air grew colder, and he and Tammy glanced back, looking at something to Cristine's right. It seemed the ghost was back.

And, a moment later, the gates swung open. Nick and Cristine headed through. Erik and Tammy caught up quickly.

"Where are we going to find grass in this place?" Nick wondered aloud, looking round. "There's not enough light here for anything to grow."

Erik shrugged. "It must be here somewhere," he said. "We will merely have to conduct a thorough search." He made straight for the yurt ahead of them.

Tammy and Nick started searching, too, but Cristine stayed put, looking around more carefully. Finally, she noticed another opening in the cave wall, several hundred metres away round the stone path that wound through the village. She drew her fan and headed down the path.

When she reached the opening, she peered inside. There were more ghostly torches lining the rough stone walls, and at the end of the short tunnel, there was a raised dais with stairs going further down into the earth. A chill wind filled the air from inside, and a very faint light seemed to emanate from random spots along the path.

"Nick!" she called excitedly. "Tammy, Erik, come here! I think I know where the bodura grass is!"

Then she brandished the sharp edge of her fan at a cheeky tiki that her shout had excited. It flinched away, and when it decided to advance again Cristine slashed at it. A cut in its wood-like flesh seemed enough to convince it that messing with the minstrel was a bad idea.

When the others reached her, they peered in.

"Ghosts," Tammy muttered. "Why are there always so many bloody ghosts?"

"Come," Erik said. "Let us at least see if the grass is here."

An uneasy shiver made its way up Cristine's spine as they walked up the corridor. She'd never been able to see the things Tammy did - not even a little bit. But ever since they'd joined up with Erik, she'd noticed something changing. It had taken a long while before she'd really realised it, but when their fygghunt led them to ghosts, Cristine's senses could pick them up, faintly as it may have been. When they'd gone down to the grave in Zere Rocks, when they'd met Marion's ghost - twice - the faint glow, the almost inaudible whisper in the depths of the Mirage Mahal - and then once in Dourbridge, when Erik and Tammy had stopped, like there was something in front of them that they could see, a very faint sound had echoed into Cristine's ears, something a little too structured to be the breeze. The sudden increase in her perception was something to do with Erik, she was certain. Spending so much time around a Celestrian, even one without his wings and halo, was bound to make things a little different.

She wasn't quite sure she liked it.

But finally, they made it down the stairs and out of the ghost-filled corridor.

All four of them looked around in surprise. Instead of another rocky cave, like Cristine had expected, they were on soft, grassy turf, surrounded by water from an underground spring. There was an island in the water where a patch of different grass grew.

"That's got to be it," Nick said. "I've never seen anything like it before, not even in books."

Erik crossed to the island and knelt to pluck a fistful of the grass. He scrutinised it for a moment. A pinkish tone suddenly popped into existence in the air beside him, and he tilted his head like he was listening to something. Then he rolled his eyes and rose and returned to the rest of them.

"It is certainly a strange plant," he said.

It was.

"Look, it looks like it's watching us with those little eyeball things," Tammy said, leaning around like she was trying to get away from their scrutiny. "Weird."

"Let's get it back to Batzorig," Cristine said. "And get out of here."

The others nodded, and they hurried away from the underground spring.

* * *

When they got back to the hunter's yurts, they found Batzorig and Khoonbish in the same yurt as before. They seemed to be arguing.

"Did I not tell you that I will be the one to visit you, Khoonbish?" Batzorig asked. "You must not come here any more."

"Grr," Khoonbish growled grumpily. It was funny how much Cristine could understand of the monster's emotions just from listening to his growls.

Batzorig turned away, and he leapt about a metre into the air when he realised that there were people watching him. "Ah, Tammy!" he exclaimed, putting a hand to his heart. "Please, you must not surprise me so!"

"Sorry," Tammy said, trying and failing to hide a smile. They stepped further inside, letting the entrance flap fall shut behind them.

"What is this you bring?" Batzorig asked then, spotting the grass in Erik's hand. "I believe I have seen such a thing, long, long ago."

He examined it for a moment and then exclaimed, "Of course! Bodura grass! My mother once showed it to me. Why do you have it with you?"

In a few words, Erik explained what had happened at the grave and in Gerzuun.

"What talk is this?" Batzorig asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "I may be a simple plainsman, but I am not so superstitious that I believe such things possible..."

"Grr! Grrr!" growled Khoonbish excitedly, nodding his head.

Batzorig turned to look at him. "Khoonbish..." Then he nodded. "You are with wisdom as always. They trusted in the truth of our story. We must trust in theirs." He folded his arms. "So my mother spoke of using the bodura grass to expose Sarantsatsral's true monstrous form...?"

He turned back to them. There was an excited light in his eyes. "If an infusion of bodura grass is thrown on the monster," he said," her mask will be washed away and her true colours revealed. Bodura grass will open the eyes of the people of Batsureg, it will protect our great plains. Will you gift it to me?"

"What kind of a question is that?" Tammy wondered aloud. Erik nodded cordially and handed Batzorig the grass.

Batzorig nodded back as he took hold of the stems. "I thank you all," he said. "I was wise to tell you the truth of my story, it seems. Now all that remains is to crush the grass and create the bodura infusion."

"Grrr! Grrr!" Khoonbish growled eagerly. Batzorig turned to him, smiling fiercely.

"Yes, Khoonbish!" he cried. "To Batsureg! I will lead those outside on before. You will follow.

Khoonbish nodded. "Grrr! Grrr!"

"May it be so!"

And then Batzorig strode out of the yurt.

"Batzorig takes his leave!" exclaimed one of the nomads.

"We must accompany him! Hurry!"

Erik snorted. Tammy, Nick, Cristine, and Khoonbish all laughed. The badboon waited a moment, and then he left, too.

"How much time should we give them to get ready, d'you reckon?" Nick asked.

Tammy shrugged.

They stood there quietly for a moment longer. Then Erik apparently decided that they'd waited long enough. "Let us follow now," he suggested and, of course, left without waiting for a response.

Back in Batsureg, Batzorig's plan had already been put into action. The nomads were gathered round the centre rise in the village, watching something wide-eyed. Batzorig, knife in hand, was standing over the perfectly still body of a particular badboon.

Batkhaan laughed proudly. "Congratulations!" he cried. "You did it, Batzorig! You did it, my son! The beast is defeated! I knew my boy was with strength. A man falls seven times and rises eight times!"

Cristine led the way through the crowd to a spot near the front. She couldn't help thinking it seemed a little overdramatic when Batzorig sobbed softly and said, "My heart was with such fear, Father. I was blind to my path forwards." He lifted his chin and drew his shoulders back. "But, with the support of you and Sarantsatsral, I was able to defeat my misgivings." Another quiet sob. Even if it was a bit too dramatic, Batzorig was doing an excellent job. He could have out-acted a number of minstrels Cristine knew, she thought. "I thank you. My loyalty is with both of you until death parts our mortal souls."

"My heart is touched by your sentiment," Sarantsatsral said kindly. "I will always protect you. There is no necessity for tears."

There was nothing in Sarantsatsral's eyes or tone which suggested any ill meaning. She was matching Batzorig's acting skill for skill.

Batzorig let out a half-stifled third sob. "I am full with gratitude, Sarantsatsraql."

And then Khoonbish moved.

"Argh!" Batzorig cried, leaping back. "Father! The beast lives yet! What must I do?"

"You must strike the final blow!" thundered Batkhaan. "Do not begin it afraid, but once begun, do not be afraid!"

_Huh?_

If Batzorig didn't get it, he hid it well. He nodded. "Y-Yes. It is so, Father! I will do it!"

He raised the dagger, took a deep breath...

And then ducked to the side, crying, "It is time, Khoonbish! Strike her! Strike down the wicked imposter!"

Khoonbish leapt up, and boy and beast sprinted at the witch woman. She cast some sort of spell - a shield of sorts - between herself and Khoonbish, causing a bright flash of light and a rushing wind to swirl through the camp. Cristine grabbed at her skirts and ducked her head away from the wind.

When it seemed safe to come up, Khoonbish had been knocked back several paces but was on his paws. Sarantsatsral's veil had flown off, revealing a shapely nose and pretty but startlingly dark lips.

"The charade is finished, Sarantsatsral," Batzorig said, pulling a canister out of his pocket. "Now show your true colours!"

The contents of the canister were perfectly clear, only distinguishable from the air around them by a distorted, liquid effect. They landed square on Sarantsatsral, soaking her through.

"What is this insanity, Batzorig?" yelled Batkhaan, who must have been knocked back in the blast of wind, because he was sitting on the ground several metres away from his previous position. "Has your mind deserted you, boy?"

Sarantsatsral was writhing almost like she was in pain, struggling to shake off the bodura infusion. A strange vapour was gathering in the air around her.

"S-Sarantsatsral!" yelled a nomad.

"What wickedness has the young master perpetrated?"

Batzorig turned to face the gathered nomads. "It is not as you believe, people of Batsureg!" he cried. "This is no woman, it is a foul beast!" He twisted and jabbed a finger at Sarantsatsral. The vapour was growing thicker now, pouring out of her in streams. An uneasy feeling stirred in Cristine's stomach.

"Behold, the true form of she in whom you had such deep trust!"

"Kaaaaaagh," Sarantsatsral groaned. "My desirous form... It deserts me... Wh-What ill is this that befalls me...?"

The vapour grew so thick that Cristine couldn't even see a shadow of Sarantsatsral's form. The cloud expanded up and out, roiling and seething, and then exploded out into wisps of gas.

Everyone in the village stumbled back several paces as they saw, standing where Sarantsatsral had been, a huge, pink, fleshy monster dressed in the witch woman's clothes. "Grrrrrrrrarrrrrgh!" it roared.

"This beast has deceived us all!" yelled Batzorig over the panicked cries of the nomads. "In truth, she is a demon who would bend us to her will so that the plains might be hers to command!" Then he turned to the nomads, pulling his gaze away from the monster. "Come, warriors of Batsureg! We must join forces and drive this evil from our homes for the sake of our people!"

But the nomads didn't seem to agree. Cristine wasn't entirely sure they'd even heard Batzorig speak.

"Aaaaaagh! Sarantsatsral is in truth a foul demon!"

"This is the end! The plains are doomed!"

Batzorig looked at them incredulously. Then he turned back to Sarantsatsral, jaw tight, drawing his knife. "...The will of the people is weakened by her wicked deception..." he muttered. "Then we must stand alone. Come, Khoonbish, to arms!"

The two of them raced at Sarantsatsral. "Batzorig, no!" Nick yelled. He'd seen the same thing as all the rest of them: Sarantsatsral's thick staff, drawn back and ready to swat.

And swat she did, sending Batzorig and Khoonbish flying back and landing just in front of Cristine, Nick, Erik, and Tammy. The four of them lurched forwards to see if they were okay.

"Hee heeee!" laughed Sarantsatsral. "You would not test my patience so if you knew what was good for you, mortal fools! I was so near to bringing the leader of you simple plainsfolk under my influence, and the plains with him..."

Cristine didn't look up. "I think Khoonbish is unconscious," she whispered.

Batzorig was conscious, but Tammy said, "Don't get up - she hit your head hard."

"And you dare to obstruct my scheme?" Sarantsatsral bellowed. "You will regret your intrusion! I will consume you all."

"Not if we are able to help it," Erik muttered. "Batzorig, remain here - we will fight in your stead."

Tammy nodded and rose, drawing her sword. "You'll do no such thing!" she told Sarantsatsral fiercely. And then they all got up, readying weapons.

Sarantsatsral laughed. "Foolish creatures! You are with the courage to challenge a beast twice your size?" And then she let out a roar that made Cristine want to run far and fast in the opposite direction.

She didn't, though. Instead, she raced forwards, fan extended to strike, and executed a pratfall just out of reach of Sarantsatsral's staff.

While the monster was distracted laughing at what she thought was Cristine's clumsiness, Erik raced round and scored deep lines in Sarantsatsral's side. Then Cristine popped back onto her feet and fanned a jet of flame at the monster's face.

She screeched and batted at the fire.

Tammy dodged the blind stumbling of the monster and drove her sword deep into the arm holding the staff. Sarantsatsral screeched again and swatted at her, but Tammy jumped back, grinning tauntingly.

Sarantsatsral switched her staff to her other hand and swung at Erik. The end caught him in the side and knocked him several paces away.

Nick hurried to him, but Erik waved off his ministrations. "It is only a bruise," he gasped.

Even though Nick looked at him doubtfully, he didn't argue - he just raised the lightning staff. Arcs of electricity crackled from the top and wrapped their glowing tendrils round Sarantsatsral. She spasmed and almost collapsed.

The air was full of shouts and screams - cries to stop, nomads cheering them on, frightened screeches when Sarantsatsral came close to really badly hurting any of them. Cristine hardly noticed it. Like the others, her only focus was defeating Sarantsatsral. And they resorted to some old tricks to do it.

But now, with four instead of two, they worked even better.

Erik dodged in front of Sarantsatsral, evading her blows by a couple centimetres, enraging her so that her focus was solely on him. He led her round the centre rise, away from Nick, Tammy, and Cristine.

The three of them followed Sarantsatsral, closing in behind and beside her. A nod from Tammy, on her right - passed along to Erik and Nick, who was behind - Cristine, on the left, saw it and moved in - all four of them leapt in and attacked at once, raking into Sarantsatsral with claws, with fans, with swords and with staffs.

The monster roared and whirled in a circle, trying to hit at least one of them, but they'd all dodged back and were gathering by Cristine. Tammy was the furthest away, though, and Sarantsatsral, realising that Tammy was on her own, lunged.

Her staff caught Tammy on the shoulder and sent her flying halfway across the rise.

"Tammy!"

"I'll get her," Cristine said, and danced away from Sarantsatsral's staff as she raced over to her friend.

Tammy was sitting up, groaning as the motion jolted her arm. "Are you all right?" Cristine asked, kneeling down next to her.

"Fine," she said, gritting her teeth. "No, don't touch it - augh!"

Cristine bit her lip. "That's not fine, Tammy," she said. "Almighty, you're danger-prone - here, let me see it."

"What d'you mean, danger-prone?" Tammy asked, wincing, as she pushed up her sleeve.

As she examined the shoulder and the arm, Cristine laughed and said, "Let me see. That curse of Morag's, the contagion, getting hit in the head by Garth Goyle and now in the arm by Sarantsatsral - and that's just since we met up with Erik and Nick! Before that it was that time you almost fell overboard - remember that, when we were going from Slurry Quay over to Gleeba? - and when you nearly cracked your skull open on that rock, and that toxic zombie that scratched you, then the time you managed to run into that statue in Mason's carving yard and broke it and your collarbone -"

"All right, all right, I get it!" Tammy said before Cristine could say anything else. "Fine, I'm danger-prone - now will you let me get up and fight?"

Cristine made a face. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," she said. "I can't be sure, but I think you might have fractured something."

"No, it's fine," Tammy said, and tried to get up. Cristine put a hand on her uninjured shoulder.

"Either way," Cristine said, "it's your left arm that's hurt, and it isn't going to be easy for you to fight with your right hand. Go and sit with Batzorig and Khoonbish."

Tammy's mouth twisted stubbornly, but finally, she grunted her agreement. Cristine helped her up. "Sword in your right hand," she said, "and off we go."

She watched long enough to make sure that Tammy wasn't going to get attacked walking across the rise, and then rejoined the boys in battle.

It wasn't long after that when a heavy blow from Nick's staff sent Sarantsatsral reeling back. More of the strange vapour started gathering around her.

"Aaaaaaaaargh!" she cried, covering her face. "Beaten by mortal hands...? Noooo... My power... My precious might..."

The vapour enveloped her again, but this time the cloud shrank before it vanished to reveal...a slugger. Cristine blinked.

The rest of the world started fading back in. Cristine could hear gasps and exclamations and the sounds of rising chatter from the nomads. And then they started to quiet down as Batzorig and the now-conscious Khoonbish stepped towards Sarantsatsral.

"Yikes!" she yelped. "Um, er, please don't 'urt me, guv! I ain't nothin' to be afraid of now, I swear! I was lonely, see. All you nomads wanted nothin' to do with me. Then I gobbled up that fruit I found out on the plains, see, an' I got all strong, like. It all went to me 'ead a bit. I couldn't seem to stop meself. You'll let it go, won't ya, precious? I didn't mean any 'arm!"

Batzorig regarded her coolly. "Your actions cannot so easily be forgiven. ...However, the escaped horse cannot be captured. Destroying you will not change what has occurred. I will allow you to leave. But you must be with agreement on one condition." He looked from Sarantsatsral to the badboon by his side. "My loyal friend, Khoonbish," he said. "From this day on, he will also be a friend of yours." Then he looked back at Sarantsatsral. "With him in your company, you will never again have to be alone. You are in harmony with this, Khoonbish?"

Khoonbish nodded, growling his agreement.

"I thank you," Batzorig said. "Then may it be so. Go on your way, Sarantsatsral."

The slugger scrambled onto her knees and started bowing. "That's ever so kind of you, guv," she said. "I can't thank you enough, 'onest. I won't get up to no good again, I swear."

Khoonbish growled softly and nudged her up, and the two of them left together through a part in the crowd of nomads.

* * *

After Khoonbish and Sarantsatsral had left, Erik had retrieved the fygg left by Sarantsatsral, and then the three of them had gone with Tammy and a nomad healer back to the inn to check Tammy's arm. Nick and the healer had pronounced it broken. After the application of a little magic and a bandage, though, it was well enough that they could go out and join in the party that had started up to celebrate Sarantsatsral's defeat.

It was late at night when it was over, and it was fairly late the next morning when the four of them left the inn. Cristine was still yawning widely.

Everyone was gathered on the rise again, but this time they were watching Batkhaan and Batzorig, who were standing on the top rise, outside of the chief's yurt.

"Listen well, faithful herders of Batsureg!" Batkhaan called. "My days as your chief are now passed. The donkey recognises the tracks of the horse. The son I thought lacking now surpasses me in every way." He smiled and turned to Batzorig. "My heart and mind are certain that he will be a valiant and true leader. From this day onwards, you are chief of Batsureg!"

Batzorig stepped forward as his father turned back to face the crowd.

"I am Batzorig, chief of Batsureg!" he said, his voice strong. "Listen well, faithful herders! We are a proud nomadic people! We carve our path in this life on the great plains and allow nothing to stand in our way. To lean on the crutch of another's power as we have done is to forget the honour and independence of our people! If we remember this, we cannot be deceived again as we have been. We can only grow stronger! It will be so!"

Cristine, Tammy, and Nick smiled, and they and Erik joined in with the nomads as they cheered for the new chief.

Batzorig and Batkhaan left the village then. Cristine watched them go.

"They're going to Bayarmaa's grave," Tammy murmured.

Cristine nodded slowly. "Well, let's leave them be," she said quietly. "I don't want to bother them while they pay their respects."

"That's probably the best thing to do," Nick agreed.

They all four looked round at each other. Then, together, they left the nomad village and started on their way back to the _Pride of Bloomingdale_.

* * *

Okay, before I go any further, I just need to ask: does _anyone_ here understand the nomads' sayings? I mean, some of them I get, but then they go and say the whole 'do not begin it afraid, but once begun, do not be afraid!' thing, and...ugh. Batkhaan's trying to say don't be afraid, I know, but there's got to be a way of putting it where the grammar gets the idea across without making someone go _huh__?_!

Anyway, now that's out of the way...

I hope everyone enjoyed getting a bit of Cristine's perspective. Tammy's pretty cool, in my opinion (though I'm a little biased), but it's loads of fun to play around with how other people see what's happening in the story - or not see, conversely, when it comes to ghosts and faeries. Which is another interesting thing - it seems Tammy isn't the only one whose senses are being affected by the presence of a Celestrian!

So, leaving you with that little morsel to chew on til next chapter... May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	19. Chapter 19

"WELL, SIX FYGGS down," Nick said. "How many left?"

"Just one, I believe," Erik said, examining my map, which was spread out on the desk of the captain's cabin. "Which is just as well, as we are beginning to run out of civilised locations in which to search."

Cristine shrugged. "If worst comes to worst, we can always just revisit the places we went before we started searching for fyggs."

"The closest place we haven't been yet is Swinedimpes Academy," I said. "What d'you reckon?"

Nick grimaced. "That's not going to be an easy place to get into," he warned. "The people there can be pretty paranoid - terrified that someone's going to come and steal their secrets."

Erik rolled his eyes. "Mortals," he muttered.

I made a mocking face at him.

"Well," Cristine said, interrupting my momentary five-year-oldness, "we could always go here, Wormwood Creek -"

"No."

All three of them looked at me in surprise. "Why not, Tammy?" Cristine asked.

I tried not to flush. "It's just... Haven't you ever spoken to minstrels who've tried to go there?" I asked them. "The whole village hates outsiders. I'd say they're xenophobic, but the thing is, they're not afraid - they're just hateful to anyone who's not from there." Which was entirely true, as I unfortunately knew from experience. We were _not _going to Wormwood Creek.

"All right, then," Erik said after a moment of silence, "not Wormwood Creek." He examined the map for a second longer, finger lingering on Swinedimples. "How difficult would it be to search here?"

Nick shrugged. "I've never been there myself," he said. "Mum and Dad went, but they just always said that everyone there is really protective of the school's secrets. So honestly, I've no idea. I just know that getting them to let us wander round campus at our leisure isn't going to be easy."

Cristine chewed on her lip, looking northeast. I followed her gaze. Far off, past Hermany and over the area where I knew the academy lay, I could see heavy clouds gathering. It looked like there would probably be snow soon.

"We'll figure out a way," I said finally. "After all, I think we've proved ourselves to be good at winging it. That's just what we'll have to do when we get there. Who knows - maybe they're more open than they were in your parents' days."

"Maybe," Nick said, though I could tell he doubted it.

I rolled up the map and stuck it back in my bag. "I'm ready to cast off when you are," I said, standing up. "Shall we get her ready to sail?"

We were back at sea in under an hour, steering through the channel between Hermany and Gleeba. Cristine was up in the rigging, continually adjusting the sails to try to catch the erratic breezes off the mountains and out of the desert. Nick was on the decks below, where Cristine had told him to stay so that she could take care of the work on her own. Erik was up on the quarterdeck with me, leaning up against the railings with his hands in his pockets.

"Why is it that you do not wish to go to Wormwood Creek?"

It had been half an hour since we'd left the Urdus Marshland, and since neither of us had spoken at all during that time, it took me a second to realise that Erik was talking to me. I looked round. "Huh?"

He raised his eyes to the heavens in a spectacular eye-roll. "Why is it," he said, enunciating each syllable, "that you do not wish to go to Wormwood Creek?"

"I was deaf, not stupid," I said, turning back around. "Why d'you care?"

He made a noncommittal noise that was probably accompanied by a shrug.

I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"It's not really something I feel like discussing," I told him without taking my eyes off the sea in front of me. "What I do and don't want to do is my own business. So if you wouldn't mind, I'd like it if you'd not ask me about it."

For a moment, he didn't say anything. I could feel him back there, though, watching me with a quiet, contained sort of frustration. Then I realised that he had moved up beside me, and I scowled over at him. "_What_, Erik?"

He scrutinised me for a moment. "I do not understand you, Tammy," he said finally. "Most mortals I think I could understand by now; despite their peculiarities, I do not think their base motives are much different from those of Celestrians. But there are too many things about yourself that you hold back for me to ever gain a foothold. As soon as I think I have you figured out, you do something I do not expect, like in Gleeba - or you say something as you did earlier, something that reveals that you are hiding something that I did not know about - and I realise anew that you, Tammy, are a very strange mortal."

"Glad to hear it," I said, turning away from him pointedly. "As if I didn't know it already. I always need reminding of just how bloody weird I am. Thank you." I clenched my jaw, but I wasn't really mad. I was just trying to hide the fact that my throat had gone tight. And I struggled to keep my voice from shaking when I said, "Now, if you're not going to say anything I haven't heard before, please just leave me alone so I can steer the ship without running us aground on all these rocks."

There was a moment while I tried to ignore him and focus on the rocks in the channel which, despite not really being all that dangerous, would still cause a fair bit of damage to the _Pride _if I hit them.

"That is not how I meant it," Erik murmured finally. "I just... It is not a bad thing to be strange, Tammy. It simply means more work for those who wish to truly know who you are."

And before I could even manage to look up at him in shock, he slipped away down the ladder and towards the front of the ship.

* * *

We reached Swinedimples Academy at about lunchtime, as students were streaming out of the main building and into what I assumed was the cafeteria.

There was a grey-haired man standing at the gate, looking down the path eagerly. When we came into sight, he lit up. "Ah, hello," he said as soon as we were in earshot. "And welcome to Swinedimples Academy. I am the headmaster, and you are the ah...detectives, I take it?"

We had a collective blink, but before I could think about it my mouth came out with, "Yes, sir."

Three sidelong glances came my way, but I ignored them. It looked like we had our way into Swindedimples.

"Yes, yes," said the headmaster. "Just as I, ah...surmised. You have an air of, ah...savoir-faire about you. You're skilled sleuths, and, ah...no mistake. Right Well, we can't very well stand out here all day, ah...yakking now, can we? Shall we walk and talk?"

He turned and opened the gate. As we walked in, Nick muttered, "Tammy, what are you doing?"

"Getting us into Swindimples," I whispered back. "Just go with it. Winging it, right?"

He looked doubtful.

"Oh, come on," Cristine whispered. "At least we're in!"

"Now, the issue facing us is this," said the headmaster: "another of our students has, ah...disappeared. That makes two now. If it happens again, I rather fear that the Academy's, ah...reputation may be called into question. It really is rather vexing..."

_Disappeared?_ Erik mouthed.

We all shrugged. I bit my lip.

As we headed through the nearly deserted main hall of the school building, the headmaster said, "But, ah...now that we have experienced detectives on the case, I'm sure it will be solved in no time. A simple missing persons incident shouldn't trouble seasoned, ah...sleuths like yourselves, should it? Of course not. But forgive me, where are my manners?"

I tried to shove down the slew of smart-mouth replies that popped into my head.

"Now how does one address such renowned, ah...gumshoes as yourselves?"

We made quick introductions.

"Must have heard it a thousand times," the headmaster said, nodding. He led us into the office and turned round to face us. "Now, Inspectors, I hate to talk of money, but, ah...please accept a small downpayment on your services." He pulled a bag of coins from where it had apparently been waiting on his desk and handed it to us. I hid my astonishment as I felt how heavy it was. There must have been at least two thousand gold in there!

"Now, all I have told the student body is that a new pupil will be arriving, so your, ah...true identities are safe. I hope you don't mind. I thought they might be more likely to, ah...open up if they thought of you as one of their own. Here is an, ah...uniform. I must remind you that, ah...infringements of uniform policy will result in detention. The school store carries all of this, as you will need more." He gave Erik the bundle of cloth, probably assuming it would fit him best.

Then he cleared his throat. "We have prepared a room for you in the student, ah...dormitory," he said, "but only one, as we were not expecting four detectives. However, there is, an, ah...empty room, left by one of the missing students."

We looked around at each other. Cristine shrugged. "I don't mind sharing a room," she said. "It'd be nice just to have a bed of our own for a little while."

I nodded in agreement.

"Erik?" Nick asked.

"I do not care," Erik said. "The dormitories I am accustomed to are shared by far more than two people."

"All right."

"Thanks, sir," I said, turning to the headmaster. "We'll do our very best, I promise."

He nodded gratefully.

As we headed out of the office, down towards the school store, Stella popped out. "I've heard of getting the wrong end of a stick, but he must have brained himself with it as well! He thinks you're detectives!" She laughed, and then shrugged. "Well, it doesn't matter. If something strange is going on, you can bet your bottom it's all down to a fygg! All right then, Inspector Erik, let's get sleuthing! I bet we can crack open this case in no time! Detectiving's all about legwork, so you'd better have a look round and see what everyone's got to say for themselves."

I shook my head, smiling, and said, "Come on. Let's get uniforms before we get yelled at too much."

"Tammy," Nick said as we headed out, "why did you tell him we were detectives? You know none of us have any idea what we're doing here, right?"

I wrinkled my nose. "I know," I said, "but it came out before I could think about it. Besides, we might be able to help. We've got a detective's best asset - a skill at getting ourselves tangled up in events just as they're trying to get themselves resolved."

"But it was a lie."

I stopped walking and turned to face him. "Look, Nick," I said, meeting his eyes. "There are students here going missing. Even if there isn't a fygg here, we know about this - we can't exactly turn round and leave everyone to their own devices. Who knows how long it could be before the real detective arrives? So either we go back in there, tell the headmaster we're not really detectives, and let people keep disappearing, or we could lie - yes, _lie_ - and have a chance of helping these people." I turned and started walking again. "Lies or lives, Nick. I'm going to help. You can do whatever you like."

Cristine sighed aloud. "You can be really dramatic sometimes, you know that?" she asked.

I laughed. "Yeah, well," I said. "Sometimes it's necessary. Anybody else want a uniform?"

"We're coming - don't be so impatient!"

We made sure that Erik's uniform would fit, and then made our way to the store.

"Okay...we need three blazers, two pairs of slacks, and a skirt," I said to the lady who was working there, a matronly woman closely swathed in furs.

She smiled indulgently. "I'm sorry, dear," she said. "But the uniform policy says that girls have to wear skirts."

I frowned. I hated skirts. But arguing wouldn't do any good.

"Fine, then," I said. "One pair of slacks and two skirts. And the three blazers."

We figured out sizes and bought our stuff. Then we found our dorms, dumped our bags, and changed quickly.

"How are we going to know what our schedules are?" Cristine asked.

I shrugged. "Maybe we ought to go back to the headmaster."

We met back up with the boys in the corridor, passed around a little of the food that we had in our bags, and headed back into the school to get schedules.

So by the time the bell rang for afternoon classes, we were all ready to go.

My first class was Swordfighting, in a huge room to the southeast of the headmaster's office. A powerfully built man in the Swinedimple's teachers' uniform strode in front of the class.

"All right, everyone," he called, "weapons out! Form up - make sure you're at a safe distance from your classmates, we don't want any hospital wing visits this period - good!"

I copied the movements of the people around me, drawing my sword and holding it out in front of me.

The teacher took up a position at the front of the room with his own sword. "Now then," he said. "Ready...let's begin!"

That period was spent in some of the most strenuous work I'd ever done. I'd wielded my sword before, sure, but never very well and definitely not for such an extended period of time. We went through about a thousand different forms slowly, and then quickly, and then slowly again, but making sure we twisted just the right way or pivoted just right on our back foot. My left arm was burning by the end of the period, and I really wanted to rinse off before the next class, but unfortunately we didn't get a chance.

I met back up with Cristine and Nick in my next class, math. We sat at a string of desks right next to each other.

"How was your first class?" Cristine asked while we waited for the bell to ring.

"Tiring," I replied. "But you know, I think by the time we find the missing kids and the fyggs, I'll know how to use a sword without slicing off the arm of the person next to me."

Nick laughed. "Oh, now I feel confident about all these battles we've fought since Erik bought you that thing," he said.

I grinned.

Then a kid on Nick's other side, a small guy with spiky black hair, said, "Hey, you're the new kids, aren't you?"

We looked over at him. "Um, yeah," Cristine said.

The boy nodded. "Well, let me give you some advice," he said. "If you don't want to get beaten up, don't go anywhere near Fred and that lot." He nodded over towards a guy lounging in the hall outside the door, who had messy dirty blonde hair. "He's a right bully, he is."

"Yeah?" I asked, looking out at him.

Cristine looked out, too. She chewed her lip for a moment. "Fred," she murmured. "The name seems familiar... Oh!" Her eyes lit up. "The two students who disappeared - they were in his gang, weren't they?"

"Mh-hm."

"Huh," I said, not looking away from the door. "What a weird coincidence."

A big, mean-looking kid with a bowl cut and a scrawny boy with blue hair had met up with Fred, and the three of them swaggered off down the corridor as the bell rang to start class.

That period, my focus wasn't on math - it was on the new developments in our little mystery.

* * *

After supper, Cristine and I were heading back to our room to get homework done. Classes ran all the way til six, when we were released; after that we had supper and then an hour period when we were required to be in either our rooms or the library, taking care of homework.

"I dunno," I was saying. "I just don't think you were quite right about the other programmes. Everything seems great to me."

Cristine shrugged. "Well, I haven't had an elective class yet," she said. "I've got dance tomorrow morning - I suppose we'll see then if it's any good or not."

"I had music this afternoon, right after math," I said. "It seemed good."

Our room was down the end of the corridor, on the right. As I fumbled in my blazer pocket for the key, I heard a voice from inside: "What's goin' on? 'Ow come it's only members of our gang gettin' tooken away?"

My eyes went wide. Cristine and I edged closer to the door, which I realised just then was cracked open slightly. Another boy was talking now.

"Oi, d'you reckon it's true what they're sayin' about it bein' a ghost doin' it?"

"Of course it ain't, divvy," said the first boy derisively. "Why, you scared or summink? Anyway, Fred -" Cristine and I exchanged shocked glances at the name - "I reckon you're prob'ly next on the list. What you gonna do if they come for ya?"

A third boy - Fred, I assumed - laughed cockily. "Ha! Let 'em come! If they reckon they can take me, I'll teach 'em a lesson they won't forget."

"That's the spirit, Fred!" said the first boy. "I knew we could count on you."

"But if someone really wants to get you - which, no offence, I kind of doubt - there's really not much you can do about it now, is there?" I asked, pushing the door open and striding in. Immediately, a chill washed over me, and I raced to hide the surprise I felt when I realised there was a ghost standing behind Fred. It faded away as soon as I spotted it, though, and the temperature returned to normal.

"'Oo are you?" asked Fred agressively. He and the other two advanced on us. "You lookin' for trouble or summink? Get out! Go on, scram!"

I grinned. "I don't have to go looking for trouble. Besides, we don't have to do any scramming - this is our room, genius. What, you just figured it was vacant and all set up for no bloody reason?"

"Oh, you must be the new kids we've been 'earing about," Fred said sulkily. He looked at me for a moment, then at Cristine, and shrugged. "Sorry. We'll get out of yer way. Come on, you lot, shift!"

Cristine and I stepped out of the way of the door so that Fred and his gang could get out. Stella, who had decided she would stay in our room instead of with the boys, popped out and said, "Hey, did you see that ghost? Something's afoot, and it's not just the thing at the end of my leg! Hang on, maybe one of those kids is about to be spirited of! Well, we can't let that happen, can we! Get after them!"

I rolled my eyes. "Homework," I reminded her. "We can't get after them til the end of the hour."

"Huh?" Cristine asked.

I sighed. "Talking to Stella," I said. "Though I don't know why. She listens about as well as a brick wall."

"Hey!"

I grinned. "Come on," I said, "let's hit the books. We can meet up with the boys later and tell them what we heard. You know there was a ghost in the room behind Fred?"

* * *

When the hour was up, we headed out and met up with Nick and Erik. We paused in the corridor while some of the students headed out to socialise.

I gave a quick explanation of what had happened when we'd gone to our room. The boys listened quietly, and then Nick nodded.

"Right, then," he said. "All the evidence so far seems to be pointing to Fred's lot as the main victims of this whole thing. I think we need somebody to go in and be a sort of an inside guy - someone who can tell us what's going on with the gang, if anything. Odds are they're just a bunch of idiots trying to get by easy, but you never know. And even if they are, if someone's on the inside we might be able to figure out what's going on if someone else disappears."

"So who're we volunteering?" I asked.

Three pairs of eyes turned my way silently.

My eyes went wide. "What - no. You're joking!"

"Come on, Tammy," Cristine said. "You could do it no problem! It wouldn't be that hard."

"She is right," Erik said. "I could see you as a member of their gang. Butch, rude -"

"I can see a fist shoved through the back of your mouth if you don't shut it."

"And violent, as well. She would be perfect."

I scowled at him. "I'll do it," I said. "You don't need to be a pain about it."

Cristine beamed. "All right!" she cheered. "Now we just have to find them and convince them to let you in."

"Leave that to me," I said. "I'll figure something out. Besides, it would probably be better if I went on my own - less suspicion, you know?"

The others nodded. "I'm going down to the library," Cristine said. "It'll be a good idea to do some research on any ghosts that might be here. Who knows, maybe we'll find something good about the one you said was in our room."

They started to head off, but I caught Erik's arm before he could get too far. "Erik," I said under my breath. "What did you mean earlier, on board the _Pride_?"

"What?" he asked, turning. "Oh. I... Nothing. It meant nothing. It was merely something I thought you ought to know. Should you not be going to find Fred and the gang?"

He pulled away hastily and headed down the corridor before I could say anything else. I stared after him as he left.

_No, Erik, _I thought._ You didn't mean nothing. _ _People don't get that flustered over nothing._

_Who did you mean by people who wish to truly know who I am...?_

* * *

Well, that was fast! I've been trying to work fast on this chapter, though, because tomorrow and Wednesday are going to be pretty packed. But it'll be the fun kind of packed, at least, not like last-three-weeks-of-school packed.

Anyway...may all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	20. Chapter 20

"YOU'RE PULLING MY leg," I said, stretching out across a couple desks in an unused classroom. "You never go to class - there's no way you can be a better swordsman than the teacher."

"I go to the classes I wanna go to," Fred replied, leaning back in his chair. "'Course, Swordfightin's the only one, but what're ya gonna do? 'Sides, I've been usin' a sword since I was seven. Why shouldn't I be better?"

I laughed. "Well, I'd challenge that, but I've only been taking lessons for three days. There's still no guarantee I won't take off the arm of the person standing next to me."

"I can prove it," Fred said. "'Ere, Mikey, get your sword out. We're gonna show Tammy 'ere just 'ow good we can fight wivout the teacher's 'elp."

Mikey was the big, mean-looking boy with the bowl cut. He grunted. "I gotta?"

"No," Fred said conversationally, "but if ya don't you'll probably find my sword at your throat and you'll draw any'ow."

Jacob - the skinny kid - and I both laughed. Then I laughed even harder as Jacob fell out of his chair.

"See," I told him, "that's why you aren't supposed to lean back like that."

He scowled. "Could ya 'elp me up?"

"Nah." We all three laughed at the indignant scowl on his scrawny face. "Come on, if you don't use your muscles you'll be a skinny little rat forever!"

"Ah, stuff it, Tammy..." He pulled himself up, still scowling.

Mikey sighed and rose, drawing his sword. "If only just to make you divvies shut it..."

I raised my eyebrows. "Right in here, with all the desks in the way?"

Fred shrugged. "Why not?"

And then he and Mikey started fighting.

My eyes went wide as I watched. There was no bloody way...

But Fred was every bit as good as he'd said. Mikey wasn't half bad, either, though I could see a definite difference between their skill levels. Mikey's style basically depended on good old brute force; Fred's was quicker, cleverer, though just as strong. I pulled myself into a sitting position and watched, leaning about as far forwards as I could without falling off the desk.

The two boys dodged around desks - well, Mikey did; Fred clambered over them sometimes - past chairs, and from wall to wall, almost like they'd practised it. Mikey had a snarl on his face. Fred looked shockingly calm and collected. There was more difference between their fighting styles than just the outside, I realised. Fred was perfectly composed, taking in everything around him. Mikey was just barrelling through angrily, trying to overpower the smaller boy.

And then with two quick flicks of his wrist, Fred disarmed Mikey and put the sword to his throat. The two of them stood there, breathing heavily. The room was utterly silent.

Fred sheathed his sword and plopped himself down on one of the desks. "See?" he asked. "I don't need no teacher tellin' me 'ow to swing a sword. An' neither do these two."

"That's 'cos I fight with a knife," Jacob muttered.

"And_ that's_ 'cos even a little sword would weigh more than you." I grinned wickedly in response to Jacob's scowl. "Seriously, kid. Lighten up. Your face is gonna stick like that if you aren't careful!"

Just then, the bell rang, releasing us for lunch. We headed out the door and down towards the cafeteria.

Nick, Cristine, and Erik sat down inconspicuously at a table across the room from us. I glanced their direction and winked. Cristine giggled.

It had been three days since we'd arrived at Swinedimples - three days since I'd found Fred and his lot lounging around behind the auditorium and had managed to join up with them. Honestly, it had been pretty easy. And since then, I'd managed to skive off every class except for Swordfighting and music. I wasn't entirely happy about that - Swinedimples was, from all I'd read, the best school in the Protectorate, and I didn't really want to miss anything - but this was kind of fun. And it was freeing, too. It felt like I didn't have any inhibitions - a natural side affect of hanging around with people who did whatever they wanted, without bothering what anyone else thought.

I reached across to the fruit plate and snagged an apple. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Erik watching me from across the room. I grinned and crunched down loudly on the apple. Then I turned my attention back to the gang. I couldn't let on that this was a sham, after all.

* * *

Erik watched from across the cafeteria as Tammy and the boys in Fred's gang ate and talked, chattering and reaching over each other and shoving one another as though none of them had ever heard of the concept of manners. He pursed his lips and picked at the sandwich on his plate.

Nick and Cristine paid no more attention than the occasional glance across the cafeteria. They were engrossed in their own conversation. Erik paid them no mind.

Absentmindedly, he continued picking at the sandwich, pulling it to pieces.

Fred said something - from this angle, Erik could not read his lips, and the sounds of student conversation were too loud for him to pick up any of what was said - and Tammy leaned back, roaring with laughter. Erik clenched his jaw and put down the shred of sandwich that he had been considering eating.

He did not like this.

Why, he did not know, but the whole situation frustrated him. Every time he saw Tammy with those boys, he could practically _feel _his blood pressure rising. They were rude, uncouth creatures, and he did not like Tammy spending time with them. And he especially did not like the fact that she seemed to enjoy it.

In his frustration, he was so distracted that it was not until he realised that his fingers were scrabbling at air that he discovered that he had ripped the sandwich into pieces so small they could easily be termed crumbs. He sighed heavily and let his head fall into his hands, massaging at his temples in an attempt to ward off the headache he knew was coming.

"Erik, what's wrong?" Cristine asked, breaking off from her conversation with Nick. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I am fine," he lied flatly. "But I believe I need fresh air."

And with that, he rose and left the cafeteria.

The cold air outside was filled with tiny snowflakes which must have appeared after they had entered the cafeteria. Erik strode across the grounds towards the auditorium. He knew that there would be pads set up for the fisticuffs class which commenced after lunch.

He pushed the door open, made directly for one of the punching bags, and roundhouse kicked it as hard as he could. Then he kicked it with his other leg. And then he tore off his handrills and sprang into action, attacking the bag as if it was a threat to his life.

As he stumbled backwards after a particularly powerful kick, he stopped, eyes going wide. _I am behaving like a mortal,_ he realised, horrified. _What is the matter with me?_

A great number of things sprang to mind, including Aquila's disappearance, Stella's presence, and the incredible tedium of sitting through lessons on things he had learnt long before, but none of them was the answer.

He sighed and leant back on his heels. This was wrong. _A Celestrian should not behave so. You ought not let your emotions get the better of you... Idiot boy! _he berated himself. _Celestrians are above such petty emotions as this!_

But just _what _petty emotion it was, he did not know.

The bell rang to end lunch, and still Erik was crouched in the auditorium. He only moved when he remembered that a class was to commence in there, and it was not one he was to be in. Sighing, he rose and strode out of the room, passing several surprised fisticuffs students who were on their way in.

He did not go to class, though. When the bell rang again, he slipped out of the school building and began to walk.

And there he paced the rest of the day, struggling to puzzle out his feelings.

* * *

It was almost lights-out by the time I got back to Cristine's and my room that evening. She was stretched out on the bed in her nightdress, reading a book. "Hi, Tammy," she said without looking round.

I smiled. "Hi. How ever did you realise it was me?"

She laughed and sat up, marking her page. "Because no one else would come in here - your little chat with Fred and his lot made sure of that. And speaking of which, how is the lovely gang today?"

"Same as usual," I said, pawing through my bag for my nightclothes. "But I did find out something interesting about Fred today."

"Mm?" Cristine rolled back onto her stomach, pointedly staring down at the page while I changed.

I nodded. "Yeah. He's brilliant with a sword."

Cristine raised her eyebrows. "Really?" she asked. "I wouldn't have imagined."

"Me, neither," I laughed. "But it's true. He started bragging about it and then challenged Mikey to a fight to prove it."

"Mikey - the big one? He must have crushed Fred!"

I shook my head. "Actually, Fred beat him pretty bad. I'm done, by the way - you can look round if you like." I moved over to pull out the trundle bed that the headmaster had given us to use since we had two people in the room.

Cristine sat up, setting her book aside. "So Fred won?" she asked. "That seems unlikely."

I shrugged. "Yeah," I said, "but it's true. Honestly, the kid's really good at it. If he'd just get his act together, he'd make a brilliant warrior."

"Huh." She scooted to the edge of the bed. "So what had you out so late tonight? Even with Fred's gang, you're usually back by curfew."

"We were practising." I nodded over to my sword, which I'd leant up against the desk. "For several hours. Fred was trying to teach me a few tricks."

Cristine nodded. She was quiet for a second, biting her lip. Then she said, "Do you really enjoy hanging round with them?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Sort of," I admitted. "It's a lot different from being with you and Nick and Erik. I mean, it's not like I'm ever particularly polite when I'm with you -" Cristine giggled, and I grinned - "but I found out pretty quickly that Fred and his lot don't much care how you act. It's kind of weird, but kind of fun, too. Why?"

"I don't know," Cristine said. "Just...well, Erik was acting sort of weird at lunch, and I think it was because he was watching you and the gang."

I snorted. "Erik acts weird without my help," I said. "And why would he be watching us anyway? I'm the one keeping an eye on the boys, not him."

Cristine shrugged. "Like I said, I don't know. I just...thought I ought to tell you."

Then there was a knock at the door. "Lights out, girls!" called a voice. "Time to stop chatting."

"Yes, sir," I said. I got up, switched off the lights, and lay back down on my trundle.

"Cristine," I murmured after a long, dark, silent moment.

"Mm?"

I fidgeted. "Why _do _you think Erik was watching my table?"

She was quiet for a minute. I could hear the sheets rustling as she moved a little.

Finally, she said, "Honestly, Tammy...I think that's something you're going to have to figure out for yourself."

Neither of us said anything else. After a while, Cristine's breath slowed down, and I knew she was asleep.

But I didn't join her for a long, long time.

* * *

Hello again!

Mm, awesome week...sleepovers, cross-country, and messing around with characters that don't have any real personality in the game! Seriously, that's good fun. Jacob kind of reminds me of my brother...

Okay, so the past few times I've posted, I've been really paranoid that I'm going to hit the wrong file - my Phantom fanfiction file sits above this one, so that's what I instinctively try to hit. It'll leave the system in a few weeks, I think, but I apologise in advance if instead of another chapter of Song of the Souls, you accidentally get Le Point de Non Retour.

Anyway..Til next time, I suppose.

May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	21. Chapter 21

A WEEK PASSED, and we seemed to have hit a dead end. Nobody else from Fred's gang vanished. Our clues seemed to be bringing us round and round in endless circles.

I wasn't the one talking to students, of course - hanging out with Fred's gang got me out of that - so I was getting everything secondhand. From what the others told me, there didn't seem to be concrete evidence of anything. Well, anything except the existence of a fygg - a girl had told Nick that she'd found a "big shiny fruit" which she had put on the grave of Sir Sternivus, the founder of Swinedimples. But apparently, when she'd gone back, it had disappeared.

There were several they'd talked to, though, who had mentioned a ghost. The way things had been going ever since Erik had shown up, I figured it wasn't a half-bad theory, but there weren't even enough clues about _that_ to give us any sort of idea what was going on.

We were convinced, though, that something was going to happen to Fred or one of his lot sooner or later. And when it did, we'd be ready for it.

One afternoon, the gang and I had taken over the library while everyone else was in class. I was perched on one of the tables, wishing I had on slacks so that I could sit like I normally did instead of like a girl. Our conversation had turned to the same thing that had been on my mind: the disappearances of the gang members.

"There ain't no way they're just runnin' off," Fred insisted. "I've said it before an' I'll say it again: none o' those kids were cowards. None of 'em woulda run off for no reason. Nah, I reckon it's a teacher plot. Tryin' to scare us into behavin', they are. Well, it ain't gonna work!"

In addition to swordfighting, one of Fred's best skills was thinking up conspiracy theorys.

"I fink they're right about it bein' a ghost," Jacob said. "There was that one day when Lilly came runnin' into the school, screamin' that she seen a ghost - an' that same day was when Nate disappeared. Remember? After 'e'd been 'auled into Jones's office fer skippin' class? 'E left, said 'e was goin' fer a walk, an' it weren't five minutes before Lilly started screamin'."

I blinked. Nobody had told me _that_ part of the story before.

Mikey rolled his eyes. "Ghosts ain't real, divvy."

"'E's right," Fred said. "No such fing as ghosts.

"I saw a ghost behind you when Cristine and I found you in our room," I told him.

A borrowed chill ran up my spine, and for a second I was sure Fred was scared, but then he laughed. "Pull the uvver one!" he told me, chortling loudly. "Only kids believe in ghosts. An' I ain't no kid, all right?"

"All right," I said, willing enough to make peace, but clearly my doubt was showing.

"What? You fink I"m scared or summink?" he asked, scowling so hard he looked like Jacob. "Well I ain't, an' I'll prove it. We'll see if there's such a fing as ghosts or not. They say if you touch that statue on the roof's fore'ead at midnight, a ghost appears. Be there tonight an' we'll see if it's true."

I grinned. A midnight outing? "Sounds like a plan."

Then the bell rang to announce the end of class, and we hopped up, ready for supper.

* * *

That evening, during homework hour, I met up with Nick, Cristine, and Erik in the library. "I found out something interesting today," I told them, and proceeded to tell them about the ghost's connection with Nate's disappearance.

"And probably Lilly's, too," I finished. "I mean, she was part of the gang and she'd seen Nate vanish - anything sensible, even a ghost, would cover its tracks. Cristine, you were reading up on Swinedimples ghosts - did you find anything?"

"Nothing concrete," she replied. "But between what you said and what that girl I talked to said about the fygg she'd left on Sir Sternivus's grave, I think we might have our culprit." She smiled.

Nick set his pen back into the ink jar. "The problem is figuring out what to do about it," he said, and pulled a book towards himself.

"We must catch the ghost, of course," Erik said.

Normally I'd have shot a smart-mouth response at him - _thanks loads, Captain Obvious!_ - but then I thought of what the gang and I were going to do that evening at midnight. "He's right," I said, and smiled slowly. "And I think I know how..."

* * *

When the call came for lights-out, Cristine and I just pressed a rolled-up blanket to the crack between the door and the floor to make it look like we'd turned the light off. Then we paced the room, fully dressed, waiting for the time to pass. We were going to wait until ten to midnight before we headed out. I was going up to the roof alone. Cristine, Nick, and Erik would be waiting somewhere in the shadows where they could see the roof but they wouldn't be immediately obvious to Fred's gang - or anyone looking out a window.

I tried to read, but stopped when I realised that sitting - even in the hard-backed wooden chair that accompanied our desk - made my eyes drift shut. We started singing, but then someone hissed through the wall to shut it or else they'd call a teacher. Cristine practised for her dance class, and I helped, which was nice for a little while - but then we were done, and I was tired again. I practised some basic moves with my sword and discovered that our room was really too small to swing a weapon in.

So even though it was only two and a half hours' wait, it felt like a lot longer.

The bell tower chimed eleven forty-five. I strapped on my sword. Cristine tucked her fan into her belt.

We waited another five minutes - the slowest of the night - and finally left the room, extinguishing the lights behind us.

Nick and Erik were coming out of their room, too. We met up and headed down the stairs together.

The only sounds as we walked across campus were our footsteps crunching in the snow and our breathing. We paused in the shadow of the gazebo.

"Good luck, Tammy," Cristine said.

"Let's hope the ghost doesn't get me," I joked. "Oh, don't look so glum, Cristine - it was only a joke!"

I smiled and patted her shoulder. Then I headed into the school building.

It was creepy in there. There was no moon out and none of the torches or anything were lit, so it was almost completely dark. I put an arm out and traced my way along the wall to my left, and then I put it out in front of me so I'd know when I found the wall opposite. I was slow all the way up the stairs, and I nearly ran into the gears of the clock trying to find the door out to the roof.

None of the others were there when I reached it. It was light enough that I could make out the shapes of the buildings and paths against the snow, but not much else. Faintly, I could see the place where Nick, Cristine, and Erik had hid. I waved, knowing I probably wasn't actually looking at them, and then turned my attention to the statue.

I couldn't see it properly, of course, but it looked to me like a Guardian statue. It crossed my mind to wonder just where she was. Neither Erik nor I had seen any sign of her while we'd been here.

I reached out to brush the snow off her head. Just then, the clock behind me started chiming midnight, and I heard the door open.

"Oh, fought you'd try and get there before me did ya, Tammy?" Fred asked. "You knew I 'ad first dibs, you rotter! Seein' as I'm such a generous feller, I'll forgive ya this once. You'd better not try anyfink like this again, though, or else."

It was dark enough that I didn't need to hide my smile. I moved so that he could have access to the statue. He strode up to it and tapped it sharply on the forehead. "Anyway, leave the rest up to me. Watch this, you lot." Then he leaned over the railing. "OI, GHOST!" he yelled. "IF YOU'RE THERE, WHY DON'T YOU SHOW YER BIG, UGLY FACE! SHOW YERSELF AN' I'LL KNOCK YER BLOCK OFF WIV MY MEGATON PUNCH!"

I winced. Fred was just begging to disappear now.

"...WHAT'S WRONG?" he yelled when nothing happened. "SCARED, ARE YA?"

There was a long pause. I glanced down at where the others were hiding, but didn't see anything.

"That's weird," Fred said then, folding his arms. "No ghost."

"Of course there ain't no ghost, divvy," Mikey said. "It's just a story. Did you really fink it was gonna show up?"

Fred shook his head hastily, saying, "Yeah, see. It's just like I said. There's no such fing as ghosts. Eh...?"

And then a sudden chill swept over the already-cold roof. A ghost - the same one I had seen behind Fred on my first day at Swinedimples - had materialised behind him again, looking furious. "Ooo!" he hissed. I flinched back. "Yooou wicked, disobedient children. How dare yooou! Sneaking out of bed at night to run around causing mischief..."

The fury in his voice made me want to run and hide. I'd never felt a ghost with this much energy before - so much, apparently, that even the others could sense it!

"Aaaaaagh!" squealed Jacob. "What the 'eck was that? Wh-Wh-What was that voice?"

"What d'you fink it was, divvy? It was a bloomin' ghost, weren't it!" Mikey was just as panicked.

And so was Fred, though he hid his terror a bit better. "Keep yer 'air on, both of ya! Din't I just tell ya there's no such fing as ghosts!" But his voice was shaking.

The ghost glared at him. "Yooou no-good little monster!" he roared. "Yooou are a disgrace to Swinedimples! Ooo, I'll teach yooou a lesson or twooo! You're coming with me to detention. I'll teach yooou to behave if it's the last thing I dooo!"

Then he dematerialised directly into Fred. "Wh-What?" he yelped, and then started to jerk around, like he was fighting for control of his limbs. "Oi!" he snapped. "Leave me alone! Get out of me 'ead...!"

I jackknifed back, putting an arm out to get Mikey and Jacob back, too. I didn't know what the ghost was going to do with Fred, and I needed to keep everyone as safe as possible.

Fred spasmed for a moment longer, and then grew still. The horrified expression on his face froze, eyes glazing over.

"Fred?" I said quietly, my heart hammering a hundred kilometres an hour. "Fred, are you all right?" It was a stupid question. I knew he wasn't. But talking helped me distract myself from the mind-numbing horror pressing at the edges of my mind.

And then I made the mistake of reaching out to touch him.

As soon as my hand made contact, I froze. Terror flooded through me - instinctive, almost animal terror, because _I couldn't move_. Something was pressing down on Fred's mind so heavily that even I could feel it, now that I'd made contact. It was some_one_ - someone angry, someone _furious_...someone maddened. The madness swirled in his mind, edged with an unnatural shine - something that should have been good, but wasn't. _The fygg. _

The rational part of my mind balked, screaming at the rest of me to realise that I wasn't the one frozen - it was Fred, and I could only feel it because I'd been stupid enough to touch him. But the terror was something that I couldn't shake. I wasn't really paralysed, but I might as well have been.

Finally, Fred moved mechanically, and my hand fell away from his shoulder. I gasped, collapsing into Mikey and Jacob, who shoved me off.

"...I AM A NO-GOOD LITTLE MONSTER..." Fred's voice was as mechanical as his motions. "...I AM A DISGRACE TO SWINEDIMPLES..."

He had moved forwards, and now, with a quick motion, he clambered onto the railing and then onto the statue's head.

"I MUST LEARN MY LESSON..."

"No!" I yelled, but I was too slow and the ghost controlling Fred wouldn't have listened to me anyway. Fred leapt off the statue's head and fell down into the courtyard.

Mikey, Jacob, and I raced for the railing, but Fred seemed unhurt. He ran off east, towards Sir Sternivus's grave.

After a half-second to pull myself together, I decided it was time to follow. I climbed over the railing and slid down the shingles, then lowered myself from the edge of the roof. I hit the ground with a grunt, but it wasn't really a long drop. I was fine.

Nick, Erik, and Cristine had abandoned the shadow of the gazebo. "Did you see that?" I asked, pointing up at the roof.

Erik nodded. "He ran to the grave," he said. "Hurry!"

We were rounding the main building when we saw Fred shove back Sir Sternivus's gravestone and walk down a set of stairs leading into the earth. My eyes went wide. "The Old School!" I exclaimed. "That's where they went?"

"What's the Old School?" Cristine asked.

I led the way towards the opening in the ground. "Several decades ago," I said, "there was a massive earthquake here. The school was completely buried. They dug a hole to rescue everyone, but excavating wasn't a possibility. So they just built the new one right on top." I pointed down. "This must have been where they dug. Sternivus was dead and buried long before the earthquake; they must have just moved the stone. Come on!" I said then, starting down the stairs. "Let's get after Fred!"

It was pitch-black in there until Nick stumbled over something he thought was a lantern. After fumbling with the tinderbox for a moment, we got it to light. It didn't make it much better, but we could at least see where we were going.

The Old School was creepy, though. The lantern only cast light about a metre and a half in any given direction, so monsters loomed up out of the darkness with enough suddenness to make me jump out of my skin. We had to clamber over and onto several bookcases to manoeuvre our way across the room. Walls were crumbled, stones were broken, and everything looked like it had been left to rot - even the books.

On the lower level, after stumbling through a pool of painful violet acid, I heard voices coming through a nearby wall. The door leading to it was boarded up (and sitting right in the middle of the acid, too), but there was another one right in front of us that I thought might lead us into the right room. I opened it gingerly, worried it would squeak, and then the four of us slipped inside.

This room was deserted, but the room next to it wasn't. Through the doorway, I could see torchlight.

We put out the lamp and peered into the room. Fred and two kids in Swinedimples uniforms - Nate and Lilly, I assumed - were sitting at desks facing the blackboard. And standing up in front of them was the ghost.

Cristine gasped quietly. "That's him!" she whispered. "Sir Sternivus! I've seen pictures in the library books."

I didn't even bother asking how she could see him. Whether it was the fygg or something else, Sir Sternivus seemed more powerful than any other ghost I'd encountered. I almost would have been more surprised if she _hadn't _been able to see him.

And that, of course, was when _he _saw _us_.

"Yooou, girl!" he cried, pointing a ruler at me. "You're late! Are Swinedimples students these days really such daydreaming dawdlers?"

"Stay there," I whispered to the others.

Sternivus glared at me. "Well? What are yooou waiting for? Don't just stand there with your mouth open! I'm talking to yooou, idiot girl! Now sit yourself down!"

Fred was still sitting exactly the same way as he had when we'd came in, but he clearly had realised what was going on. "Get out of 'ere, Tammy!" he yelped. "Peg it while you still can! The old loony's put some spell on us so we can't flippin' move! 'E'll get you an' all if you don't get out of 'ere!"

I decided I didn't really feel like pegging it, but there was no way I was sitting down. The spell might have been tied into the desks. So instead, I walked around the desks and up to the ghost.

"Did I not tell yooou to sit down?" he roared. "Don't give me that look, young lady! Or are yooou trying to get yourself in trouble?"

I grinned. "Well, of course," I said. "Be a shame if I couldn't flaunt my talents, wouldn't it?"

If Sternivus had still been alive, his face probably would be purple with rage. "Fooolish child!" he yelled. "Yooou dare to answer me back? Do you think yourself some kind of hero already? There is no place at Swinedimples for such extraordinary impudence! Idiot girl!"

I jumped back a couple paces as a dark cloud swirled into existence around him, hiding his figure. Footsteps behind me told me that Nick, Cristine, and Erik had abandoned their hiding place to come after me.

And then the darkness dissipated, revealling a hulking, ugly monster. I wrinkled my nose. _Seriously, can't these fyggs at least make stuff look nice on the outside?_

"I am Sir Sternivus Swinedimple, founder of this academy. Yooou will dooo as your superiors tell yooou! Yooou will not be educated until yooou can learn to behave."

"Then I hate to think how long it will be until she graduates," Erik muttered.

_"Stuff it!"_

"And punishment is the only way one so obstinately disobedient as yourself will ever learn! Now, girl, it is time to learn your lesson!" He roared, an earth-shaking, eardrum-damaging noise that probably woke the whole school.

He lunged at me, holding out his book like he was going to hit me with it, but Erik leapt around and sank his claws deep into the arm holding the book. Cristine cast Crackle. I ducked under another swing of the book and slashed at his midsection. Nick cast Buff on Cristine.

It was weird fighting, what with Fred sitting behind yelling sword-handling advice at my back. Eventually Erik snapped at him to either "close his uncouth, hooligan mouth" or to get up and help us. Fred drifted off into grumbles after that, but I was careful to watch my form.

We all took several heavy hits with the book and with some of the old headmaster's spells, but nothing too dangerous. Nick had to heal everyone several times. The tide of the battle, though, was something none of us could see yet.

At least, not until Sternivus rammed Erik with his book, sending him across the room. He landed with a grunt against the wall. I rushed over to him, but he held up a hand. "Let me do this," he growled.

Obligingly, I backed up a pace. There was a light in his eyes that hadn't been there before - something that told me that he was about to do something big.

Erik rose and threw a brick at Sternivus, making him turn. Then he let loose with a roaring, cascading tidal wave of sound, a terrifying tirade that sounded like a hundred years of anger suddenly, explosively let loose. The sound rose and fell through the room for at least a full ten seconds, making my hair stand on edge and me very, very glad that Erik was on our side. It set my blood racing through my veins as the sound made some deep, primeval part of me hungry for battle. Even once Erik stopped, the echoes of the scream rang around and around the room.

Then, over the sound of the echoes, he yelled, "Tammy! _Now_!"

Sternivus was frozen with terror, but I wasn't. I nodded sharply, extending my sword arm, and raced forwards. With a spinning leap, I sliced deep into Sternivus's flesh and landed a metre back, crouching, breathing hard. The echoes were fading away.

"Noooooo!" cried Sternivus, clutching at the wound, which was bleeding heavily. "Without me, my academy will be overrun with lazy, oafish, impudent boys and girls! Ooooooooo! My head! Oooooo!"

A bright light flashed around him. Then the fygg appeared, floating down. I caught it and handed it off to Erik.

The monster was gone, replaced by the transparent shape of Sir Sternivus Swinedimple. His presence was still strong, but I knew he wasn't any danger now. Not without the fygg.

He looked around, confused. "Hm!? Whatever is going on? This is my, ah...classroom, is it not?" When he spotted Fred, Lilly, and Nate at the desks, his face lit up. "And you children must be Swinedimples students! Marvellous, marvellous...but, oh, ah...whyever do you all look so glum?

"Are you bloomin' jokin'?" exploded Fred. "Because you dragged us down 'ere and locked us up, you 'orrible old ghost!"

"Ooo, I'm busting for other toilet!" Nate groaned. "I can't wait much longer! It's no use, I'm...gonna go! I'm gonna goo!"

Lilly moaned, and her stomach growled loudly. "I'm so hungry... I feel faint... Got to get out of here get something to eat..." Her stomach growled again.

Sternivus stared round at them. "I locked you all up?" he asked. "Are you sure? ...Ooh, ah...perhaps I did, yes... I, ah...seem to remember a little now..." His embarrassment was obvious. "You must forgive me, children. I, ah...really wasn't quite myself, you see." He took a step forward. "But even in my, ah...unfortunate state, I had your best intentions - by which I mean your, ah...rehabilitation - at heart. You're all brimming with, ah...untapped potential - rough diamonds, every one of you - but, ah...I'd have to give you an F for effort. So I asked the fruit for the power to, ah...persuade you all to, ah...apply yourselves a little more to your studies. But it seem my desire to, ah...reform you was a little fiery, and became - once the fruit took hold - positively, ah...monstrous... I can't tell you how sorry I am, children. I can see now how wrong I was."

He turned his attention to Nick, Erik, Cristine, and me. "But you, children, going to such lengths to, ah...aid your fellow scholars... Quite extraordinary! You are credits to Swinedimples. I can rest in peace knowing that my academy can turn out such fine, ah...specimens as yourselves."

Honestly, I thought as I shielded my eyes from the light of his passing-over, _I can't help thinking that's kind of the stupidest reason ever to be at peace. _

And apparently Fred felt the same way, because when the light faded away, he scowled. "Bah! Well 'e could 'ave figured that out without puttin' us froo all this rubbish, couldn't he? Stupid old ghost..."

"'Rough diamonds'?" Lilly wondered aloud. "I like that. D'you hear that? He said we were rough diamonds!"

Nate made a face like he was thinking, which kind of looked like hard work. "So if we went to lessons a little more often, we'd be smonth diamonds?" he asked slowly. "Hmm... Maybe I should start goin' a little more often..."

And then, they all apparently realised something. "Hey! I can move again!" Nate exclaimed. "Thank goodness for that! Now I can finally go to the loo!"

"Thanks!" Lilly said. "You saved our bacon!"

"Cheers, Tammy," Fred said. "I owe ya one."

The three of them got up and left. Fred swore loudly as he splashed through the acid.

Erik snorted. "Quite a pleasant character."

"Well, he is a gang leader," I said.

Stella popped out. "Well, it looks like Sir Sternivus's message got through to a couple of them, at least. I reckon that's this case all parcelled up." She looked at Erik, pleased. "And that's our seventh fygg too. That's loads! Let's make train tracks back to the Observatory and drop them all off. You remember how to get back, don't you?"

"Of course," Erik said shortly.

Cristine yawned widely.

"Bedtime," Nick announced. "We have the fygg; let's get some shut-eye before we try to do anything else."

"Sounds like a plan," I said.

So we headed up to sleep off our last few hours at school.

* * *

"Oh, wonderful!" exclaimed the headmaster. "Just, ah...wonderful! You brought the all back safe and sound. What an incredible, ah...relief. So the, ah...ghost of Sir Sternivus Swinedimple was behind it all?"

It was late the morning after we'd fought Sternivus. We'd decided to drop by the headmaster's office before we took off.

"It was all, ah...my fault really," the headmaster said sheepishly, turning away. "The drop in standards under my my headship caused him to quite literally, ah...turn in his grave. I suppose I was a little too, ah...soft. Well, I shall, ah...endanger the name of Swinedimples no longer. I must guide my pupils with a firmer hand from now on."

He turned back to us, straightening up. "And you, our, ah...distinguished detectives, as promised, you cracked the case before Swinedimples's reputation could be tarnished."

Nick coughed loudly, and I could practically feel him going red beside me. I couldn't help laughing.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I think Nick's gonna burst if we don't tell you... We're not really detectives, sir. We just happened to be at the right place at the right time."

The headmaster blinked. He worked his mouth around silently for a minute, and finally came out with, "Well, I hardly think that matters now that the affair is, ah...settled. Inspectors Erik, Nick, Cristine, Tammy...we are forever in your, ah...debt. Please accept the remainder of your, ah...remuneration."

He handed us another bag of coins, and smiled. "And, ah...I think you'll agree that I was not entirely mistaken. You truly are great detectives!"

"Thank you, sir," we all said. And then, smiling, we headed out of the office.

"What now?" I said then. "We've got all seven fyggs...I s'pose it's back to the Observatory, Erik?"

Erik nodded. "I intend simply to Zoom back to Alltrades Abbey so that Stella and I can board the Starflight."

"All right," Cristine said quietly.

Nick shrugged. "We can always use a chimera wing to get back here and retrieve the _Pride_."

Erik blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Well, you certainly didn't think we'd let you leave without seeing you off, did you?" Nick asked, and laughed.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Besides, you know what I think?"

Erik rolled his eyes. "Does it matter? You will tell me anyway."

I stuck my tongue out at him. Then I said, "Well, we worked every bit as hard as you did gathering the fyggs. Nick and Cristine have never seen the Observatory - I think they deserve the chance to see the place they've been working for."

Erik raised his eyebrows. "You are prepared to ride the Starflight again - twice?"

"Well, no," I said, "but I'll deal with it."

"No screaming that we are about to die."

I grinned. "Only if Stella's driving doesn't make me feel like we're gonna die."

"You two are not encouraging!" Cristine said, laughing.

"No you're not!" agreed Stella, popping out, her arms folded crossly.

I laughed. "I have faith," I told them both. "We didn't die the first time, at least. So is that a yes?" I asked, turning to Erik.

He sighed. "I suppose."

"Yes!" I cheered.

"One might almost believe she is glad to be going with me," Erik muttered. "Very well...grasp hands. I shall cast the spell."

We whirled through the vortex of colour and sound I remembered from when we'd gone up to fight Garth Goyle the second time. When the world returned to normal, it was abrupt. I managed to stay on my feet, but just barely.

Erik's spell had brought us to the foot of the blue tree that Stella had crash-landed the Starflight in. And the golden train was sitting at the top, suspended in the branches.

"Come on," I said, following Erik up the tree. "The Starflight Express's up at the top. I know you can't see it, but..."

Nick and Cristine exchanged doubtful glances but followed willingly enough.

Stella fluttered up, slid the door open, and headed inside. Erik and I hauled ourselves over the edge and onto the floor, and then reached down to help Nick and Cristine inside.

"This is so weird," Cristine murmured, looking around. "There's light all round..." She blinked, and then her eyes went wide. _"Oh!_ It _is _a train!"

"You can see it?" I asked.

Cristine nodded mutely.

Nick looked round, rubbed at his eyes, and looked round some more. "It's there," he said, "but...it's not... This is freakish."

I snickered. "Just wait til you start hearing Stella. You don't know the meaning of freakish until you've heard her talk."

The faerie scowled at me. "Watch it," she warned. "I'm the one driving this old rustbucket!"

Then she moved to the control panel, seeming much more sure of herself this time. I closed the door. We moved up towards the front of the Starflight.

This time, when we took off, it wasn't nearly as bad. For a while we soared upwards steadily while Stella poked and prodded at buttons. Nick and Cristine alternated between staring around the Starflight and out the windows. For Cristine, this was pretty much the strangest thing ever. For Nick...for Nick it was like doubts disappearing.

"I don't know how many fyggs there are altogether," Stella said after a while, "but I reckon we've hunted and gathered enough to do a delivery run." We'd all turned to look at her. Clearly, the Starflight was having an effect on Nick and Cristine's senses. "If we get what we've got back to the Observatory, that'll probably take a bit of weight off your Celestrian friends' minds. Not to mention making you look pretty good into the b - huh?"

She stopped dead, mouth half open, staring at something behind us. "Wh-What's that light?"

Nick, Erik, Cristine and I all turned. There was a soft blue glow behind us. As we watched, it resolved itself into the form of a tall, muscular man with a closely shaved head, dark brows, a halo, and a pair of wings folded to his back. He was kneeling, but he looked up, revealing piercing dark eyes, and rose.

"Well met, Erik," he said in a calm, deep voice. "It has been some time."

He approached. I looked over at Erik, whose violet eyes were wide with shock. "Master," he whispered.

I looked back at the Celestrian. "Aquila!" I breathed.

"Who the flap's this?" asked Stella. "He looks like another Celestrian. Is he a friend of yours, Erik?"

Erik gave her a flat look.

"He's Aquila," I whispered. "Erik's teacher."

"Get away!" she exclaimed. "You and your surprises, honestly!" I rolled my eyes as she said, "Hi! I"m Stella. I work here on the Starflight."

Aquila ignored her. "So it was you who travelled in search of the fyggs, Erik," he said. "I might have guessed..."

Something wasn't right here. There was a strange unease in my stomach, and I knew it wasn't coming from me.

Stella, who of course didn't sense anything, turned away peevishly. "Oh! Cold shoulder treatment, is it? Well toucans play at that game! And so can fae - so can I!"

We all did the smart thing, which was to pay no attention.

Aquila put a hand out towards Erik. "You must allow me to deliver the fyggs to the Observatory, Erik," he said. "Come now, heed your master. Will you permit me to take them?"

The unease was growing, gnawing at me - well, at Aquila. This wasn't right. "Erik," I hissed. "Don't give them to him."

Then I found out where Erik had learnt his chilly glare. Both he and his master fixed me with it.

"Tammy, I will thank you not to instruct me as to what to do," Erik said shortly. I blinked. He was acting like he had when we'd first met...

Which honestly was enough to flame up my old anger with him. "What's the matter with you?" I snapped. "Erik, seriously, something's wrong here." I glared over at Aquila. "I don't know why you want the fyggs, but you're sure as anything not gonna get them. You're plotting something!"

"Be silent, insolent girl," Aquila said coldly. "Cease this foolishness, Erik. Relinquish the fyggs. That is an order."

Erik slid the bag of fyggs off his shoulder and handed it to his master. Stella turned back to face the action.

"Excellent," Aquila said, examining the contents of the bag. "You have gathered all seven of the fyggs that fell to the realm beneath. ...But I would expect no less of you, my pupil. You are wise to entrust them to my care. Now I -"

A loud rushing noise drowned out anything else he may have said, and everything went dark. Cristine cried out, and I grabbed for her hand.

"Oh, frightfully well done, Aquila old boy," said a genteel voice. "Now, you'll be a good fellow and drop by the palace with them as promised, won't you?"

_"Palace?"_ Nick asked.

Everything went light again, and I felt myself go bright red as I realised that the hand I'd grabbed was actually Erik's. We snatched our hands away and turned to look at Aquila, who was kneeling on the floor. "...Of course, Your Majesty," he said.

We all backed away several paces.

"What was that weird posh voice?" asked Stella, her voice rising rapidly. "What the flap's going on? And why did you give this weirdo the fyggs? We had to sweat blood, sweat, and tears to get those, you idiot!"

Erik said nothing. He stared at Aquila wordlessly, his expression perfectly neutral. But I could feel something rising up inside him. He clenched his fists, leaving his claws at the ready.

Slowly, Aquila rose. "...You intend to try and stop me," he said calmly.

Erik's expression didn't change, but he nodded slowly. Whatever had started rising up was spreading through him - and me, more faintly - making both of us itch to attack.

Aquila drew his sword and assumed a fighting stance. "This is no time for sentimentality," he said coldly. "If you stand in my way, I have no choice but to cut you down!"

"Get back!" yelled Erik.

I dove at Nick, Cristine, and Stella to get them out of the way. Aquila lunged at Erik, who didn't dodge quickly enough, and sliced deep into Erik's right arm. Erik cried out, and glared at Aquila.

But when he tried to attack, he stopped like someone was holding him back. He struggled viciously - I could tell that much just from the snarl on his face - but it was no good. He couldn't move.

"Your efforts are futile," Aquila said. "A Celestrian may not take arms against a superior."

Erik redoubled his efforts, but it did no good.

Aquila attacked again. This time, the blade ripped into his midsection. Erik's eyes went wide, and then he collapsed like he'd been knocked out cold.

"Erik!" I exclaimed, untangling myself from the others and rushing over to him. "You son of a - what did you do?" I snapped, glaring up at Aquila. "Why would you do this to him!?"

"Erik..." Aquila mumured.

Stella was flailing around, shrieking, but I ignored her.

"You bloody traitor!" I spat. "He trusted you!"

Aquila sheathed his sword wordlessly and blasted the door open. "Farewell," he said to us, and leapt out.

"Erik! He's making off with all the fyggs! Come on, snap yourself out of it! Open your eyes and shine! Otherwise I'll -" Stella's flailing had taken her over to the door, and suddenly she froze, staring out. "Wh-What the flippety-flap is that?"

I scrambled over to the door, and my eyes went wide. An enormous black dragon, twice as thick as I was tall and at least twice as long as the Starflight, was flying beside us. On its back was a freakish-looking bird-man.

"The operation was a hooge success, I trust, Aquila?" the bird-man asked.

Aquila flew up beside the bird-man, looking surprised. "Lieutenant Hootingham-Gore!" he exclaimed, and I went cold. I knew that name. "You were sent to watch over me, I take it."

"Hoo hoo hoo!" laughed Hootingham-Gore. "Not at all, my dear chap. I'm no sticky beak! I was just passing by, and hoo should I see but your fine self? But now that you mention it, we're still not sure if you are someone hoo can be trusted."

"You need not worry," Aquila said. "I have the fyggs."

My breath rushed out of me in a huff. If I was right - if I'd remembered the name properly - then I knew who Aquila was working for. But it was impossible. The Gittish Empire had been destroyed three hundred years ago!

Hootingham-Gore laughed again. "Splendid!" he cried. "Now, I have another little duty I'd like you to help out with. I'm heading for Upover. It's time that menace, to wit the Hero of the Heavens, was wiped out once and for all. Barbarus here, hoo is so kindly lending his services to the Gittish Empire, is all fired up about hoomiliating him! Why don't we have a little demonstration of just how fired up! Hoo hoo hoo hoooo!"

I was frozen, holding myself in the doorway. Barbarus. Hootingham-Gore. Upover. The Hero of the Heavens. _No way_. This was all too much, too fast. All these things were _legends_ - the stories I'd grown up with, all my life. _Old _stories, ones that, even though I believed them, contained characters that were long dead. But they weren't. They were here, alive, right in front of me...

Aquila glided away. Barbarus dropped back. I stared after them, and then my eyes went wide as I realised what was going to happen. "Everybody away from the door!" I yelled, diving back myself. I'd have slammed the door shut, but Aquila had already blasted it away.

A deep rumbling started up from behind us.

"Who the flap was that!?" Stella spluttered. "And where's this Upover place? And who's the Hero of the Heavens?"

Then there was a huge blast, and the entire Starflight jolted. Erik was knocked from where Nick had laid him, trying to take care of his wounds. I lunged for him as the Starflight leaned to the right, but I missed.

"Uh-oh," Stella said. "That felt a little too much like a dragon attack to me..."

"Stella!" I yelled, grabbing for Erik again. I caught his wrists, but he was dangling out the doorway.

The faerie girl fluttered over to me. "Erik!" she yelled. "Come on...don't...let...go..."

I yanked hard, knowing it probably wasn't good for his wounds but not really caring. Between my strength and Stella's, we managed to get him back inside the train.

We got him back over to Nick and Cristine, safely away from the open door, and then I raced for the control panel.

"We need to set down somewhere!" Nick yelled. "I can only do so much up here. We need someplace where we can give him better care!"

I nodded grimly and stared out the window. The landmass we were approaching was very familiar. I could see the river, the mountains, the huge mountain in the distance...the wide canyon, the forest, the little village.

Of all the places we could have ended up, this was not the one I'd have chosen. But the Starflight's power was failing, and we were heading down fast. So I grabbed the control lever and started steering us towards the beach.

I couldn't pull us up, but yanking back on the lever at least slowed our descent enough that we didn't crash too hard when we reached the beach. We landed in the sand with a heavy thump, and I turned away from the control panel.

"Come on," I said. "We're not far." I hoisted Erik up, putting one of his arms over my shoulder so I could support him better. Why he was unconscious, I didn't know - he hadn't lost that much blood that fast. But he was unconscious either way, and so absolutely no help while I tried to haul his lanky frame across the beach and through the forest, towards the village.

"Tammy, where are we?" Cristine asked. Nick slipped over to Erik's other side and helped me support him.

I smiled grimly. "The place I'd least like to end up with an injured Celestrian," I said. "Wormwood Creek."

Clearly, our spectacular arrival had been noticed by the villagers. They were gathered at the path into the village - dozens of faces, all of which I'd hoped never, ever to see again.

And at the front of them all was my least favourite face of all. He was paunchy, balder than he'd been when I'd seen him last, but there was no mistaking him.

His eyes went wide when he took in my face. "You!" he cried.

"Me," I agreed grimly, stopping about two metres away from the crowd of villagers. I jerked my chin up so I could look him in the eye. "Hullo, Father."

* * *

And this is now, officially, a very long chapter. I'm really sorry, but I knew that I needed to get _right here_ to end a chapter, and if I'd split it up I'd have had to wait a whole extra cycle of writing and editing to get here. But I had fun. That scene on board the Starflight is one that is just awesome to write, and I've been planning the _Hullo, Father_ bit since the very beginning. I started my first bit of character planning for Tammy by scribbling "Tamela 'Tammy' Doffish" on top of the page, even before I'd started drawing her. So I've known - and maybe if my oh-so-subtle hints were as much hitting-you-over-the-head-with-a-hammer as I feel like they were, some of you knew too.

So what happened to make Tammy run away from Wormwood Creek and be so happy to hang out with foreigners? Well, I suppose we'll just have to wait and find out!

May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	22. Chapter 22

IT HAD BEEN five years since I'd run away from Wormwood Creek, but almost nothing had changed. Everyone was hostile towards Nick and Cristine, except for my twelve-year-old cousin Wallace who apparently had moved in with Doffish after his parents had died the year before. It had taken his and my combined efforts (and a near-shouting match between Doffish and me) to get a bed for Erik. It was actually my old bed, which had turned into Wallace's and now Erik's. I'd given Wallace several gold so he could stay at the inn.

Nick, Cristine, and I couldn't do the same. The innkeeper, grumpy old Martha Krause, had refused lodging to Nick and Cristine because she didn't want "any nasty foreigners" sleeping in her beds and hadn't let me have a room because I "ought to be sleepin' under my father's roof, like a good girl."

Dr Martin refused to tend to Erik, who remained unconscious for the rest of the day. So Nick, Cristine, and I pooled our healing abilities and took care of Erik's wounds on our own.

The people at the weapons and armour shops wouldn't sell to Nick or Cristine, so I took orders and bought everything myself. I also bought a pair of dragon claws for Erik. His handrills were still okay, but I'd noticed that they seemed more unwieldy than other claws he'd had. I knew it had to be bothering him.

That night, Nick, Cristine, and I bivouacked outside the village.

The next day found me sitting by Erik's bedside, wishing there was something I could do for him. I just couldn't puzzle out why he hadn't woken up. Nick had examined him earlier and pronounced him perfectly healthy, but he was still out cold. It was almost like he was sleeping, only he'd been that way for almost twenty-four hours. I wondered if maybe it was a psychological thing - protecting him from shock while his subconscious mind absorbed it.

I'd been there nearly an hour and a half before Cristine came in and sat down next to me. It was another five minutes before she said anything. "You don't call him 'Father'," she said.

"Huh?" I asked, looking away from Erik.

"Mayor Doffish," she clarified. "I mean, when you greeted him yesterday you did, but... You call him Doffish when you talk to Nick and me, and you never called him _anything _while you and Wallace talked him into letting Erik stay here... Why?"

I sighed. "It's a long story," I said, looking back at Erik. He looked more peaceful like this than he had any other time I'd seen him - silver brows unknotted, usually tense frame relaxed into the mattress. "About as long as the story of why I left this backwoods, xenophobic hole in the first place."

"Surely it couldn't have been that bad here," Cristine said. "Not for you, anyway. You're not...well, foreign."

"I hate that word," I muttered. "_Foreign_. It's all I ever heard growing up. No, you can't talk to the minstrels; they're _foreign_. Don't you dare go look at the goods the merchants are tryin' to sell - _foreign_ wares, the lot of them, and no good at all. That's a strange, _foreign_ idea, girl; don't go blabberin' that all over the village." I folded my arms. "And did I stop talkin' to the minstrels? Of course not. I didn't stop going to look at the merchants' wares; they were fascinatin'. I learnt stories from the minstrels, stories from places where if you wanted to talk to someone you could, and you never once had to worry about where they were from. There were tales of heroes other than Greygnarl. Ideas that hadn't come from Wormwood Creek. I could have _lived _off what everyone else termed 'stinkin', foreign lies, not fit to be told round here'." I smiled grimly. "Nobody liked that much, especially seein' as I'm the mayor's daughter. That's what started this whole mess in the first place."

Cristine blinked. "What do you mean?"

"This," I said, gesturing round at the village in general. "It's not a story that's much told, but I know enough. About three centuries back, the daughter of Wormwood's first mayor got caught up with a foreigner who turned out to be some sort of fugitive from the Gittish Empire. Some troops came after him, and, well...the mayor got killed protectin' the daughter, and the daughter got killed trying to protect the fugitive, and it was all for naught anyway because once the girl was dead, they captured the fugitive and locked him up in a Gittish prison. The village was devastated. They haven't had any willing contact with the outside world since."

For a moment, Cristine didn't say anything. Then, finally, she murmured, "That's so sad. That something like that could happen in the first place, and then that it's affecting these people all these years later... It's dreadful."

"Yeah, well, I can't feel too sorry for them," I said. "Right now I'm just worried about gettin' to Upover as soon as possible. If we're lucky we'll have time to warn Greygnarl that the Gitts are back and Barbarus and Lieutenant Hootingham-Gore are coming for the village."

We were quiet for a moment longer. Then Cristine rose and put a hand on my shoulder. "Come on," she said. "We need to get you outside somewhere. It's not good for you to sit in here brooding like this."

I wrinkled my nose. "I really don't feel like going anywhere," I said. "Though it'd be nice to get out of the village for a little while before that bloody meetin' tonight."

"Good. Come on," Cristine said. "You've got to know a few good places to hide out round here."

"Well," I said slowly, "I do know some." I stood up. "Grab Nick if you like. We're goin' to Wormwood Canyon."

* * *

A little while after noon, Wallace came running out to the canyon. "He's awake!" he called, even before he was in sight. "Tammy, your friend's awake!"

I'd been sitting at the edge of the canyon, staring across the abyss like doing that could make the other side magically closer. When I heard Wallace, I jumped to my feet.

"Erik's awake?" I asked, hurrying over to him.

Wallace nodded brightly. "Except...well, Unc - I mean, Mayor Doffish, says that he has to come to the meeting tonight, too. And Erik says he wants to talk to you."

"Oh," I said. "Okay. I'll head back to the village. Nick, Cristine, do you want to stay here or go back?"

"I'm perfectly fine out here," Nick said. "The company's much better."

Cristine giggled. "I'm staying, too," she said. "I don't really feel like being glared at right now."

"All right," I said. "Come on, Wallace, let's head back."

Erik was waiting in the doorway of Doffish's house, leaning against the door frame with his arms folded. When he spotted Wallace and me, he started forwards.

"Hey, Erik," I said. "How are you?"

He snorted. "I sincerely hope you are not truly expecting an answer to that question," he said. "You _were_ aboard the Starflight, were you not? And I believe your eyes and ears were open."

I grimaced. "Yeah," I said. "So, Wallace said you wanted to talk to me?"

Erik nodded. "Someplace more welcoming than this village would be appreciated."

"I know what you mean," I muttered. "Here, let me make a pit stop and then we'll head out. I know a nice place a little ways north of here."

He gestured for me to go on.

I stopped by the tavern half of Wormwood Creek's inn and asked for a bottle of the specialty lager. Then, on a moment's reflection, I ordered a bottle of diluted wheat beer, the stuff that kids could drink while they were learning to hold their liquor. The bartender gave me a stern look and said, "Miss Doffish, you know your father wouldn't approve of your drinkin' -"

"Yeah, well, he doesn't approve of anythin' else I do," I said. "Look, here's the gold, Mr Brines; you can tell Doffish if you like, but I don't care." I pushed the money for the drinks across the bar. After a moment of hesitation, Mr Brines took it and handed me the drinks. "Thanks," I said, and left.

Erik was still waiting. He raised his eyebrows when he saw the bottles. "You are truly going to drink again, after what occurred last time?"

I rolled my eyes and started heading out of town. "That was an unfortunate accident, and it won't happen again," I said. "I know this stuff, and it's not a quarter as strong as that bloody Desert's Throat. That stuff might as well have been straight whiskey. Here," I said then, holding out the wheat beer. "This is yours."

"And now you are trying to introduce me to this, as well?" he asked, not taking it. "Tammy, I am not quite sure you are in your right mind."

"Am I ever, accordin' to you?"

He inclined his head. "Point taken." He hesitated, and then took the bottle. "What kind is it?"

"Wheat beer," I said. "Diluted, so it's got a really low alcohol content. It's what kids learn on if they want to start drinkin'. I don't think it tastes the same, but I didn't figure you'd ever had much to drink. I didn't really want to find out if Celestrians can get drunk. Though you'd probably be more fun that way."

He rolled his eyes.

We headed north along the path, following the stream to our right. "Where is it that we are going?" Erik asked.

"The spring that feeds the stream," I said. "It's in a little cave up north. I've found it's a good place to go if you don't want to deal with anyone from the village. Only Wallace and I pay it any mind." I'd shown Wallace the cave the one other time I'd seen him, when he was six and my uncle and aunt had come to visit.

It was a little while longer before we reached the cave. I pulled aside the curtain of trailing plants so we could head inside.

Erik looked around, seeming rather interested. "Quite a hideout."

"I always thought so, too," I said. "See, there's this part of the cave, with the spring; but round that bend there, there's another little hole in the wall to get to another cave. I always called it the inner sanctum." I smiled a little. "Even if you're in this part, you can't find the other cave very easily. The entrance is smaller and hidden a lot better. So it's a lot more private."

He was silent for a moment, looking round. Then he said, "You are speaking differently."

"Huh?"

He snorted softly. "You are speaking differently," he repeated. "Your accent, I mean. It is not half so quick as it was when I first met you."

I shrugged. "It's been unwindin' ever since I told that story in Bloomingdale," I said. "I s'pose it's only to be expected, too, coming back here and all. People in Wormwood don't have the same accent as other places in the Protectorate."

"Mm."

I made my way over to the bit of wall by the inner sanctum. "It all seems smaller than I remember," I murmured.

"You are no doubt bigger than you were at the time."

"Well, yeah..." I sighed. "Look, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

Erik blinked. "Ah. Yes," he said. "What occurred after I passed out? Stella and your cousin both spoke of a black dragon. And if you would kindly explain just why it is that you never spoke to us about being from Wormwood Creek - even when I specifically asked why you did not wish to come here - I would greatly appreciate it."

I sighed and popped the top off my bottle. After a quick draught, I said, "Well... After you passed out, Aquila jumped out of the Starflight. Nick, Cristine, and I were tryin' to tend to your wounds, and Stella flipped out, so I went to see what she was looking at... There was this huge black dragon flyin' alongside us. Barbarus." My tone went flat as the name came out. "On his back was a monster - something half man, half bird. Aquila greeted him as Lieutenant Hootingham-Gore." I met his eyes. "Erik, when you grow up round here, you learn about the Gittish Empire. Lieutenant Hootingham-Gore was one of the Triumgorate, the trio of men directly below King Godwyn. Aquila told Hootingham-Gore he had the fyggs. I'm sorry, Erik...your master's workin' for the Gitts."

Erik's face looked like it had been carved from stone. "Impossible," he said, his lips hardly moving. "Aquila would never work with the Gittish Empire. It was believed to have been their fault that his master Corvus disappeared."

"I'm sorry," I said again, quieter. "But it...there was no mistakin' it. 'The operation was a huge success, I trust?' Hootingham-Gore asked, and then later he said Barbarus was 'lending his services to the Gittish Empire'. And Aquila told him that he'd gotten the fyggs. There was no way to misinterpret." I fingered the neck of my bottle nervously.

Erik still looked like stone. Hesitantly, I put a hand on his shoulder. "Erik, d'you...d'you want to hear the rest? It's not much, but..."

"Go on," he said. His voice was almost inaudible.

I swallowed, nodded, and kept talking.

"Well, Hootingham-Gore said that he and Barbarus were going to go to Upover to wipe out the Hero of the Heavens. Greygnarl. And then as a 'demonstration' of how excited Barbarus was about that, the dragon attacked the Starflight... I grabbed the control lever and managed to bring us down here so we could heal you. You didn't wake up the rest of the day, or this mornin'. And then you _did _wake up, and...well, I s'pose you know the story from there."

He nodded slightly. His expression still hadn't changed.

"And why," he asked finally, "did you never tell us of the fact that you came from here?" His voice was flat.

I wrinkled my nose and took another sip. "I didn't want to think about it," I said simply. "I left because I couldn't stand it here any more. I needed space to breathe."

"It seems to me that your life would have been simpler if you had stayed."

I snorted. "Yeah, no weird faeries or annoying Celestrian boys."

Erik rolled his eyes. I was relieved to see it. The stony-faced, flat-toned reaction he'd had to what I'd told him had worried me.

"Maybe," I said more honestly. "But simple isn't always right. It wasn't for me." I leaned up against the wall and took another sip. "Although I'll admit, they make a mean lager. You haven't tried yours yet, have you?"

"Mine is not a lager," he pointed out, but he struggled with the top and managed to pop it off. He took a hesitant sip and made a face. "It is dreadfully bitter."

"It's a bit of an acquired taste," I said.

He shook his head. "I shall never understand mortals," he said. "Why would you wish to acquire a taste that leaves you insensible?"

I laughed. "I've wondered that myself," I said. "It... I dunno. It was my private little rebellion while I lived here."

Erik raised an eyebrow. "You were only ten years old when you left."

"I know," I said. "It was probably stupid. But the only times I've ever had too much were in Gleeba and then once while I was travelling on a merchant ship, workin' with the sailors." I snickered. "That wasn't long before I met Cristine. I think I scared her a little at first - the weird, spiky-haired little kid who probably looked more than a little like a boy and had a mouth like a sailor."

"At the age of ten?"

"Eleven," I corrected, "but yeah." I shrugged. "What do you expect?"

He shook his head.

I rolled my eyes. "I suppose you were never much of a rebel," I said. "Bein' a perfect little Celestrian and all that."

Erik snorted and leaned up against the wall. "Guardians are chosen young from the ranks of the Celestrians," he said. "We were a small group, carefully raised and supervised. And then Apus Major bade...Aquila...to take me as his apprentice. When you train under one such as him, you do not deviate from instructions. Spending six or seven hours fighting monsters alone was his initial idea of good discipline."

I grinned. "Sounds like my idea of a good time."

"Yes, well," he said, "once he realised I enjoyed it, he put me on patrol duty, which consisted of hovering above Angel Falls, waiting for a mortal to need assistance." He rolled his eyes. "I do not understand why that was not his first form of punishment. It was dreadful."

"Yeah, that sounds worse."

We were silent for a long time, drinking our beers. Erik made a face every time he took a sip.

It wasn't until after both bottles were empty that we stood up and made to head back to Wormwood Creek. As we left the cave, Erik said, "Thank you, Tammy."

I blinked and looked at him. "What for?"

"For this," he said, gesturing back towards the swinging curtain of plants. "I appreciate your taking me here. And your speaking with me."

I smiled a little. "Well," I said, "what are friends for?"

Erik looked at the ground as we walked away. "Friends," he murmured. "Yes, I suppose." He nodded, looking up, and the corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile.

A little bit of warmth bloomed in my stomach. Whether it was his, mine, or both of ours, I didn't know, but it was nice. I smiled.

And we headed back to town in silence, the warmth playing all through my body.

* * *

That evening at sunset, Nick, Cristine, Erik and I went to the Wormwood Creek church for the town meeting. Everyone else was already waiting inside. Doffish was standing up front.

"There you are..." he said. "Right, Tammy, I'm only intereted in hearin' about one thing from you - the black dragon. Not long before you dragged yourselves up to our doorstep, we saw it flyin' over the village. You're not tryin' to tell us you had nothin' to do with it, are ya?"

"Absolutely nothin'," I said. "It attacked us!"

Doffish narrowed his eyes. "Don't come the raw prawn with us, missie!" snapped Dan Marshall, an old farmer. "There's no way you'd have survived if you'd been attacked by a dragon!"

"Yeah, don't listen to a word of it!" said old Mrs Krause. "She isn't a proper Wormwood Creeker any more anyway - it's all stinkin', foreign lies!"

My head snapped around to look at her, wide-eyed. _Of all the rude, insulting -!_

"We're gonna have to assume you and the dragon are workin' together," Doffish said, pulling my attention back to him. "Martha's right, Tammy - you aren't a proper Wormwood Creeker."

I glared at him, but before I could say anything, Wallace interrupted. "Why won't any of you believe what she says?" he asked. "Why are you so suspicious of them all?"

"Because they're not - _she's _not - one of us. She's a foreigner!"

Something inside of me went icy cold.

"Foreigner," I said quietly. "Really?" I clenched my jaw and fixed Doffish with a steely look. "I get it. Come on," I said then, turning. "They don't want us here. We might as well leave 'em!"

I strode away down the aisle, past the villagers.

"Tammy," Doffish yelled. "Tammy, that's not what I - Tamara Aegil Doffish, turn round and listen to your father!"

I stopped dead. "My father," I said, almost a whisper. "Listen to my father." I turned to face him. "My father, who drove me to runnin' away from everything I'd ever known when I was just ten years old? My father, whose my-word-is-law declarations made me feel like a freak - like somethin' that could never belong anywhere? My father, who just called me a _foreigner_?" I stalked forwards slowly as I spoke, until I was face-to-face with him. "I grew up here, remember - I know what it means when someone from Wormwood Creek calls you a foreigner! And you have the gall to call yourself my father?"

The icy thing inside of me had broken, releasing a flood of boiling-hot anger.

"My father - I haven't called you my father since I was six years old, do you know that? You caused that - you! You're not a father, Doffish - you're a miserable human being, so caught up in your own beliefs and view of the world that you can't even see the damage you're doin' to the people who are trying so _bloody__ hard_ to love you, even with your prejudices and stubborn ways. I've spent fifteen years feeling utterly alone because of your idea of fatherhood! Five years drawin' away from people who try to love _me_, because I was convinced that I was too different - too much of a freak - for anyone to care about once they knew who I was! Years of hiding from everyone's emotions because that was the only thing I knew to do. Because my history from here - from _you_ - convinced me that the only way to keep some measure of myself was to hide away from the world!"

I was breathing hard. "You're not my father," I spat.

And I turned on my heel and stalked out of the room.

I walked faster and faster until I broke into a run, heading north towards my hiding place - towards the inner sanctum. As I ran, I felt my eyes start to sting with tears. My throat filled with sobs, and I couldn't breathe without a cry on every exhalation. But I kept running. I needed to escape.

Inside the inner sanctum, I collapsed to the floor and curled in on myself, sobbing. The sounds echoed off the walls of the little cave, sounding louder and longer than they really were. The acoustics in there meant that the inner sanctum always reflected my mood.

I had been there alone for several minutes when I heard movement in the cave outside. I swallowed and tried to hide my sobs. I didn't want anyone from Wormwood to find me.

But the person who crawled inside wasn't from Wormwood. It was Erik.

"Go away," I said, my voice breaking. "Just leave me alone."

He didn't say anything. Instead, he moved over to sit beside me.

I looked away, sniffling. "I told you to leave me alone!"

"Would you?" he asked.

"Would I what?" I snapped, looking up.

He didn't say anything this time, either, but I knew what he meant. I sighed. "No. I suppose not."

"Then I shall return the favour."

We sat there, not touching, not talking. I swallowed a few times, blinked back tears, and sniffed. Finally, I said, "We should...we should find somewhere to sleep. I'm sure they've banished us from the village permanently."

Erik nodded. "Nick and Cristine are waiting in the main part of the cave," he told me. "If you are ready, we can go out and join them."

I wiped at my eyes and rose. Erik stood with me. We crawled out of the inner sanctum and back to the main part of the cave.

Nick and Cristine were waiting out there, and so was someone else: a ghost. The wave of heavy sadness that washed over me as soon as I was out of the inner sanctum told me exactly who it was. "You!" I exclaimed, and the ghost turned.

"Oh!" she cried. "It's you. Haven't we...?"

Erik's eyes had gone wide, and Nick and Cristine turned to see what we were looking at. Cristine gasped. "A ghost!" she yelped.

"Oh," the ghost said again, "you can see me! I've been invisible to everyone else." Her relief was intense. "My name is Serena. I wonder, could I ask you a favour? It's something I can't do myself now."

She must have been from Wormwood, I realised, listening to her accent. All four of us nodded.

Her face broke into a smile. "I left something of mine back in Wormwood Creek," she said. "Something really important. Could you get it for me? Look at the foot of the Guardian statue. That's where I hid it. Please help me. Bring it back to me here..."

She sighed quietly, and turned back to the spring.

I sighed, too, as we headed out of the cave.

It looked like I wasn't going to be escaping the village so easily.

* * *

Writerchic97 here, struggling to squeeze every bit of free time out of her last day of freedom! Yep, school starts back tomorrow at eight o'clock sharp, so it looks like I'll be back to click-clacking at the keyboard during class time ^_^ On the positive side, though, the school library has a fair selection of manga. I'll be pretty packed, between school and cross-country and (hopefully!) the fall play, but I can read manga pretty fast. I'm thinking either One Piece or XXXholic... But hey, you never know! Oh, jeez, I will never be able to finish watching Death Note...

Okay, anyway, ignoring my random obsession with Japanese pop culture - which I actually can't really do, considering that this whole fanfiction was a product of it...

May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	23. Chapter 23

THE PROBLEM WITH getting to whatever Serena had left under the Guardian statue was that, according to Nick, Erik, and Cristine, Doffish had kicked them out of Wormwood Creek after I'd left. He had not, Erik admitted, said anything about me, but "after such an outburst, I should not expect that he would welcome you back with open arms".

We were back outside of the village, trying to figure out what to do. The sun was back behind the mountains out west, so the village was dark and everyone was heading for bed. I knew from experience that Wormwood Creekers weren't night owls.

"I'll go alone," I said finally, interrupting a debate over whether or not we could go in through the gate. "No, I'm serious. I know this place; I know where the Guardian statue is, along with any and all good hidin' places. It'll take me less than five minutes. Okay?"

It was a simple answer. Everyone agreed – well, except for Stella, who insisted upon going with me. I just rolled my eyes and decided it was lucky no one in the village could hear her.

I clambered over the fence by the Guardian statue and crouched down to study it.

"So this overgrown lump of rock is the Guardian statue that ghostly girl was on about?" Stella wondered aloud. "Let's have a look, then…"

She fluttered around in the least thorough search I'd ever seen while I studied the base. "I can't see anything… Oi, Tammy, don't just stand there twirling your thumbs! Help me look."

"What's it look like I'm doing?" I snapped. "Shut it, Stella! I'm doin' a better job of looking than you, anyway."

She grumbled quietly while I continue to search the statue. When I'd circled all the way round without finding anything but the illegible carving of the Guardian's name, she said, "See, I told you: squiddly-dot! Do you think she's been leading us up the Guardian path? Well, obviously, I suppose, but…"

I shook my head. "We must have missed it," I said. "She wasn't lying – I could tell. I'll look closer. You can leave if you like. As a matter of fact, please do."

Stella opened her mouth to reply, but she stopped and I froze, my heart beating at a million kilometres an hour, as we realized there were footsteps coming towards us.

I lunged for the fence, praying desperately that whoever it was wouldn't see me. Then I stopped as I heard Wallace call, Tammy?"

"Wallace!" I breathed, turning. "You scared me half to death!" I kept my voice to a whisper, worried that one of the other villagers would overhear.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, bringing his voice down. "What are you up to? What's so interesting about the Guardian statue? …Ooh! Does it hide some sort of super secret or something!?"

I laughed quietly. "Maybe," I said. "I'm looking for something, something that's supposed to be hidden by the foot of the statue. The only problem is, I can't find it."

Wallace pursed his lips, looking at the base of the statue intently. "Hm… I'll tell you what I think." He looked up at me. "Back where I come from, the Guardian statue has the top spot in town, you know. And everyone looks after it." He walked over to join me by the statue. "But in this village, it's shoved back here and left to rot. It's rather odd, don't you think? If you ask me, I'd say it used to be somewhere else. You know, somewhere a little more central, where people could admire it."

Slowly, I grinned. "Wallace, you are a genius." I'd never have thought of that. This was where the Guardian statue had always stood, as far as I knew. Its having been someplace else before would explain a lot.

Wallace beamed. Then his eyes went wide, and he said, "Oh no! I forgot! I'm supposed to be doing some shopping for Uncle – I mean Mayor Doffish! What was it he wanted me to get again…?" He bit his lip. "Oh no… I'll have to go back and ask him. He'll go through the roof!" Then he turned and ran off.

"Good luck," I called quietly, wincing in sympathy. I knew that dealing with an angry Doffish was not going to be fun.

Stella stared after him as he ran off. "Strange boy…" She sighed and looked at me. "But, you know… The little squirt might be onto something. Maybe this statue was somewhere else before. Either way, it's not here, so we might as well go have a goose somewhere else."

I nodded slowly, thinking. Then I nodded again, more sharply. "Right," I said. "Follow me. I think I know where to go. And don't make me talk!"

I slipped between shadows towards the doors of the church. Candles were going out in houses around town, but there were still lights burning inside the sanctuary. I wasn't worried, though. The priest and nun were the only two in town who wouldn't care about foreigners or our having been kicked out.

Mother Terri gave me a sympathetic smile when she saw me. I waved at her and hurried on past the pews and up the corridor to the right of the altar.

"What's this, then?" Stella asked, looking at the stone at the end of the corridor.

I flickered a glare in her direction. "Read the inscription," I muttered through still lips, and knelt down in front of the stone to start searching.

"'This stone stands in place of the abomination that brought disaster on our village,'" Stella read. "'Trust outsiders at your own peril. Fellowship starts and ends at home.' Well, flap," she said then. "They put this in instead of their Guardian statue? No wonder this place is so messed up!"

I smiled grimly. "For once, we agree," I said. "Gotcha!" My fingers had closed around something small, cold, hard, and coated with dust. I pulled it out, shook the dust off my arm, and wiped off the thing I'd pulled out. "A necklace…" I stood up, examining it. "Why would she leave this here?"

"Doesn't matter really," Stella said. "Come on, let's get back!" We slipped out of town and back to the others.

"Did you get it?" Cristine asked.

I nodded and held out the necklace. "Right here."

They moved in to examine it. When Erik got close, thought, the pendant suddenly gleamed, making us all jump. Erik's eyes went wide. "A serene necklace!" he exclaimed. "But that is impossible…"

"What d'you mean?"

"There are only two in existence," he said. "And the both of them are locked away in the Observatory's treasury."

I blinked.

"Well," Nick said, "Serena is a ghost. Maybe when she was alive to leave it under the statue, there were more necklaces."

"Perhaps," Erik said doubtfully. "Though how she gained possession of it, I should like to know."

Cristine shrugged. "We can ask her tomorrow," she said.

"Good idea," I said. "Then afterwards we can work out a way to Upover. If we can figure out a way into the Bowhole, we should be golden."

"The Bowhole?" Nick asked.

I nodded. "It's this place a ways west of town," I said. "There's loads of lore about gettin' to Upover from here, and all of it traces back to the Bowhole. Only problem is, it's all sealed up. Has been for ages. So it's gonna be tough to get in."

Erik frowned. "That is unhelpful."

"We'll deal with it tomorrow," Cristine said. "Right now, though, we should make camp. It's getting late."

"Good idea," I said. "I'll take first watch."

We made camp in a clearing about half a kilometre away from the village. After we built up a small fire to ward off the area's monsters, Nick, Erik, and Cristine lay down to go to sleep. I sat down by the fire.

A half an hour passed, and then an hour. I piled extra sticks onto the fire and sharpened the edges of my sword. For some reason, I wasn't tired. I figured I'd wait longer than usual to wake Nick for his watch.

Sighing, I poked at the fire with one of the sticks from the pile of firewood beside me. Then I stopped, looking round, as I heard a gasping sob from my right.

Erik was laying there, fast asleep, his expression pained and his face covered with a sheen of sweat. A phantom pain passed across my back, and I jumped. Then a terrifying sense of falling came over me, and I realised what was going on. Erik sobbed again, sounding frightened, and he rolled over.

"Erik," I hissed," standing up. "Erik, wake up!"

His breathing grew more ragged and he shifted again, but he didn't wake and the sense of falling didn't leave.

_"Erik!"_

He started, eyes snapping open and sitting halfway up. I sighed in relief as the falling sensation disappeared. Erik looked round, panicked. Finally, his gaze settled on me.

I bit my lip. "…You were havin' a nightmare…" I told him quietly.

He sat up properly, drawing his knees up to his chest. "I…" he murmured, "yes. I suppose I was." He looked down.

Hesitantly, I crossed the patch of grass between us and sat down next to him. "D'you want to talk about it?"

Erik looked away sharply. "No," he said huskily.

I looked at him for a moment, but he'd turned so far that I couldn't really see his face. So I sighed inaudibly and looked at the ground. After a minute, I plucked several blades of grass and started plaiting them together around a small twig. It was a pattern I knew well; I'd done it hundreds of times over the years.

We sat there in silence until finally Erik asked, "What are you making?"

"A dreamguard," I said, showing it to him. "It keeps nightmares away – they get caught, but the good dreams can slip through." I pointed out the small gaps in the pattern. "See? Doffish said that Mum made one for me the day before she died. It lasted for years – must've had some sort of Faerie magic about it. By the time it finally disintegrated, I knew the pattern well enough to make new ones. Every time one would break, I'd make another."

"Do they work?" Erik asked.

I smiled. "I think so," I said, starting to plait again. "I've had my share of nightmares, but when I've got a dreamguard, they're more distant. There have been nights when one's broken and I don't make a new one… I mean, it doesn't happen every time, but if I have a nightmare without a dreamguard, it's much worse. Here," I said then, holding out the now-finished dreamguard. "This is yours. You need it, I think."

He shook his head. "No, I am fine."

"All right," I said. "Have your nightmare. See if I care. Oh, and while we're on the topic of gifts you're gonna try to refuse…" I reached into my bag and pulled out the dragon claws. "I already bought these, so you can't say no. I noticed the handrills seemed too heavy for your style."

Erik blinked. "Oh," he said. "I… Thank you, Tammy." He took the claws.

I nodded. "No problem," I said. "Go back to sleep if you like; I was just wakin' you up to make sure you were okay."

He glanced up, measuring the positions of the stars. "No, I do not think I shall," he said. "I am no longer tired."

"Well, I'm not tired, either," I said. "So I s'pose we'll just both annoy Nick when we don't wake him up for his shift."

Erik snorted softly.

We sat there for a while longer, keeping watch. At some point, I started tapping out a beat on the ground without noticing it; I only realised what was going on when I started humming. Then I smiled a little and decided I might as well sing.

_"March, my comrades, to battle here today_

_"We fight for the freedom of all!_

_"Hark, you Gitts, to the sound of marchin' beats,_

_"For we are your downfall!_

_"We march to battle with Greygnarl by our side,_

_"He who struck the first blow!_

_"Our songs rise up to turn the rebel tide_

_"Our hearts, our spirits glow!_

_"We march for freedom, our souls sing aloud,_

_"Our fight is the fight of all!_

_"Aye, hark, you Gitts, to the sound of freedom's song,_

_"For we are your downfall!"_

I leaned back, grinning. Erik stared at me blankly. "What," he said finally, "was that?"

I looked at him incredulously. "You've never heard any of the Battle Cries of the Revolution?"

He blinked. "I must say, I have not."

"Ohh," I moaned. "You uncultured little swine!"

"'Swine'?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes. "What kind of person doesn't know them?" I wondered aloud. "They're the songs sung by the army that marched against the Gittish Empire all those years ago. Battle songs. They say that when the people of the army sang together, they sounded like a roaring dragon, and nothin' but Greygnarl winding his horn could match the volume. It struck terror into the hearts of the Gitts and inspired the people to keep fightin'."

He raised his eyebrows doubtfully "That is quite powerful music."

I laughed. "Well, stories get a bit exaggerated over the years," I admitted. "Minstrels know that better than anyone. Doesn't stop us from telling them in the exaggerated form, of course."

Erik rolled his eyes.

"Come on," I said. "If you're goin' to be here for any length of time, you ought to learn at least one of the battle cries. I'll teach it to you."

"No," he said quickly. "Believe you me, you do not wish to hear me sing. All the milk in Wormwood Creek will go sour."

I snickered. "It's probably sour already from all those grouches inside the village gates," I said. "I don't care. Everyone else is asleep."

"You would care," Erik argued. "The people of Angel Falls believed me to be a minstrel until they heard me attempt to sing. After that, they assumed I was simply a strange boy with a dreadful singing voice."

"Well, you are a strange boy," I pointed out. "You don't have to sing. But really, it's somethin' you ought to know. There's hardly a person I've met who doesn't have at least one of the Battle Cries memorised."

He sighed. "Is there any point in arguing with you, Tammy?"

I shook my head.

"Very well, then," he said. "I suppose I shall comply."

"Excellent!"

He complained good-naturedly, but he went along with it. And when, after about half an hour, he recited the whole song back at me, I grinned. "You're good at memorising," I told him. "Are you sure you can't sing? I mean, even if you can't, we can still use you as a minstrel, but it would be great if you could!"

"I am not a minstrel," he said sharply. "Performing ability or no, I cannot stand flamboyantness. That alone is likely enough to end my career."

I snorted. "Come on," I said. "Neither Cristine nor I are too flamboyant. There's nothin' to worry about there. Let's hear you sing."

Erik rolled his eyes. "Do you enjoy being in pain, Tammy? That is the only reason I can think of for your desire to hear my singing voice."

"That bad?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Yes," he insisted. "Go to sleep, Tammy; you have been up longer than your watch." He almost smiled. "And I would not like to test out your dreamguard tonight. I assure you, my singing would give you nightmares."

I chuckled. "All right, then. Keep the fire going – it'll keep the monsters from showin' up and eating you for a midnight snack. Have fun, O Tuneless One!"

He snorted softly. I moved away to curl up to sleep, my bag as a pillow. And soon enough, I was asleep.

* * *

Erik stared into the fire for some time after Tammy left, trying to banish the memory of the nightmare. The pain…the sensation of falling…and falling…knowing he would hit solid ground at any moment, and yet…continuing to fall…

He shivered and shook his head sharply, struggling to dispel the feeling. Glancing down, he noticed the dreamguard Tammy had made. He picked it up and passed it from hand to hand, looking at it absently.

Tammy had fallen asleep. Erik looked over at her. Truly, he could never quite predict what the half-Fae would do. Some days she loathed him; others, like today, she would behave as though they were the closest of companions. A closed book indeed, he thought, _although I suppose I cannot blame her if all she said in that outburst was true._

He sighed and looked away from the sleeping Tammy. It was fortunate he was on watch, he decided. His head was far too full of things to settle down.

And not all of them were as painless as the thought of Tammy.

* * *

It was about dawn when I woke up the next morning. Cristine was finishing up her watch, and she smiled at me. I smiled back and moved over to the remainder of the fire.

"Didn't want to keep it goin'?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I let it go out when it started to get light," she told me. "I assumed there was less to worry about."

"You were probably right," I said. "Want to help me get some food ready? I'd like to head back to the cave as soon as possible."

"Okay," she said. "Let's see when we've got."

We rifled through our bags and got together whatever we could scavenge for breakfast. I got the fire going again and set a big rock in the flames. After we got out some bread and dried fruits, I went searching for eggs.

A few minutes later, I came back with four, all taken from different nests so I didn't completely mess with some poor mama bird's feathery brain. I fished the rock out of the fire and cracked the eggs open on top to fry them.

Erik was stirring soon, and Nick as well. They joined us by the fire just as I was taking the eggs of the makeshift frying pan.

"Well," Erik said. "You have been busy."

I grinned. "Fresh out of the pan," I said. "It's the best way to eat 'em."

We passed the food round and had a quick breakfast. I wanted to ask if Erik had had another nightmare, but I figured it was probably better not to do that in front of everyone. I'd wait until later, if there was time.

After breakfast, we gathered up our things, smothered the last of the flames, and headed north towards the cave.

When Serena saw the necklace, her eyes lit up. "You found it for me!" she exclaimed. I smiled and held it out so she could examine it. "He gave me that necklace, you know. It means the world to me."

Erik edged closer, and suddenly the necklace gleamed again.

Serena blinked. "He told me that it shines whenever there's a Celestrian nearby," she said. "I didn't think it possible, but you're one too, aren't you? A Celestrian, I mean…" She sighed. "But he's the only Celestrian in my heart… The one who gave me that necklace… Could I have it now, please?"

I swallowed, blinking back the tears that weren't mine, and handed it to her. She laid her hand on top of it and closed her eyes. "Haah…" she sighed. "Yes… It brings it all back…"

Her hand closed around the pendant, and the ghostly coldness of her fingers made contact with my hand. Instantly my view of the cave disappeared, replaced by the image of a halo-less but winged Celestrian with shoulder-length blonde hair. He was lying on the ground, apparently unconscious.

Serena's eyes went wide when she saw him, and she hurried over. "Are, are you okay?" she asked, kneeling down beside him. "Are… Are those wings!? Are you a…?"

The vision faded away, replaced by another one in what looked like my house in Wormwood Creek. The Celestrian sat on a bed, in the same place as mine, with a bandage around his forehead. Serena was facing him; an older man stood at the foot of the bed.

"So…" Serena said, "you're a Celestrian? Really?"

The Celestrian nodded once.

Serena broke into a fascinated smile. "I knew there was something special about you, the way you survived those terrible injuries," she said. "And your wings…"

She looked out the window. "Ever since I was a little girl, I was told tales about Corvus, the Guardian of Wormwood Creek. But I never really believed you existed. …And I never imagined I'd actually meet you!" She looked back at Corvus, excited, but Corvus looked away silently.

And the scene changed again. This time, Serena and the older man stood outside, facing a group of soldiers.

"Who the devil are you?" asked the man angrily. "There's nothing of interest here. Get lost!"

The soldier in the front, one with a plume on his helmet, said, "Sorry, old fellow, that's rather out of the question. This is part of the Gittish Empire now. Even a backwards backwood like this must recognise the Empire's sovereignty."

I went cold. This was bad. Very bad...

"We're a poor community," replied the older man shortly. "We don't have anything to give you."

"Really?" asked the guy with the plumed helmet. "I wouldn't say that." His tone made me shudder, and he turned his gaze to Serena. "There are other ways of paying tribute to your masters. That young lady would make one of us a fine wife, for example."

The older man's eyes practically popped out of his head. "You want me to give you my daughter?" he asked, outraged.

"Very good!" said Plume. "You do catch on quickly!"

Serena stumbled back, but Plume caught hold of her wrist. "Get off!" Serena snapped, struggling away. "Get off of me!"

"Come along now, there's a dear," said Plume icily. "I don't think you'll like what will happen to this cesspool of a village if you resist…"

Serena's father was struggling to get past a soldier who was blocking his path with a spear. "Stop!" he yelled. "Let her go!"

"Get back, old man!" snarled the soldier blocking him. He pulled back his fist to punch Serena's father – and then a current ran through the air, setting my hair on end. A bolt of blinding electricity arced through the air, hitting the soldier square on the helm.

Everyone's heads whipped round, searching for the source of the attack. Our vision landed on Corvus, who was standing outside the house, crackling with energy. I didn't need empathy to tell what he was feeling – the snarl on his face said it all.

Another bolt of energy hit Plume, knocking him to the ground and forcing him to release his grip on Serena. The girl stumbled back, her eyes wide.

More electricity sparked round the village, hitting the soldiers and making the air practically white with light.

"Huuurgh!"

"Wh-What the blazes!?"

"That power! Only a…"

"No one defies the Gittish Empire!" roared Plume. "You shall live to rue this day! Fall back, men! Fall back!"

The blinding light disappeared, and it took me a long moment of blinking to realise that I was back in the cave and that Serena had removed her hand from mine. The others were staring at me. I went hot all over as I realised that I must have just done the exact same thing I had in the graveyard behind Marion's house.

Serena had turned back towards the water. "It was all my fault that he… That's why I have to find him… Why I can never stop searching…" She  
turned to face us then. "I want to thank you for finding my necklace, so… If there's anything I can do for you, I will."

Stella popped up. "Too flapping right there is!" she said. "You're from Wormwood, aren't you? Do you know how to get into the… What was it? The Bowhole?"

I nodded.

Serena, apparently, was distracted by Stella's appearance. "Oh, my!" she exclaimed, examining her. "What a pretty little thing! Are you a faerie?"

"Talk about stating the obvious!" Stella said, preening. "And as for being a faerie, I'm –"

I snorted, and she glared at me. "Never mind! Do you know how to get inside this Bowhole place or not?"

"If you mean you want to know how to break the seal there," Serena said, "then yes… I can help you. I'll meet you there then, shall I?"

We nodded, and she turned and walked off.

Stella was inordinately pleased with herself. "Stellar!" she cheered. "See, I'm not just an outrageously beautiful face! This should mean we can get to that Upover place at last! Come on, then! Follow that spook! This Bowhole place is off to the west, right?"

"Yeah," I said. "Let's get going."

As we walked, I moved over to Cristine. "I did it again, didn't I?" I asked.

She smiled a little. "If you mean you started talking and it wasn't actually you, then yes, you did."

I sighed. "Yeah, I figured." I shoved my hands in my pockets. "Bloody hell, that's annoying."

"Well, it's not your fault," Cristine reasoned. "And I suppose it was a little less weird this time. We'd seen it before, and this time we could see why you did it."

"That's another thing," I said. "You could see her, couldn't you? You and Nick."

Cristine nodded. "I think it was being on the Starflight," she said. "Before all this started, I couldn't see any of what you see. After Erik showed up, I could make out a little bit, but nothing concrete. It wasn't til I got on that weird old train that I could actually _see_, if you know what I mean."

"I do," I said. "That's…interesting."

"Yeah," she said. "Strange, but interesting."

I snorted. "Is anything that's happened recently not strange?"

She giggled. "I suppose you're right about that."

The walk from the cave to the Bowhole was a long one, and the morning was almost halfway gone by the time we'd made our way through the little wood to the cliffs behind. Serena was waiting there.

"This is the place you meant, isn't it?" she asked. "I know the spell you need to bread this magic seal." She turned to the entrance, a black opening covered with a latticework of darkness and electricity. "Heed the word of one Wyrmward-born: open the path of light for they who seek the way to Upover. Answer my prayers!"

The barrier evaporated into nothingness. I stared.

_"When he who seeks the way to Upover appears, open the gates of_ _Wormwood with the light guarded by the sentry statue"… And then "When_ _Wyrmward, long sealed, is opened at last, the path of light, shining_ _shall appear, firm and fast. A wyrmlight bow's arrow, let loose to the_ _skies, shall point out the path to the blindest of eyes"… "The wyrmward_ _will open with the light of the statue's sanctuary, and the way to_ _Upover will appear at last"… This…this is the stuff of legends!_

Serena nodded, seeming pleased. "Well, that's my work here done. You're on your own from here on in."

"Thank you," Erik said.

The others headed inside, but a chill on my arm made me pause. "Serena?"

She had laid a hand on my arm. "Listen to me," she said quietly. "Perhaps I don't have your gifts, but I know enough about you. A connection like that one in the cave goes both ways." She smiled sadly. "We are sisters through time, Tammy… We have the same responsibilities towards Wormwood, towards Upover, towards our Celestrians. Let me give you advice."

I nodded. What else was I supposed to do?

Serena glanced inside the Bowhole, where I could see the others, seeming perplexed. "Don't lose him," she said, her sad voice suddenly full of passion. "Whatever you do… I've had three hundred years to know what it feels like when something like that's taken away."

"Somethin' like what?" I asked. "I don't understand. Erik and I don't even like each other half the time!" I knew somehow that she was talking about Erik, even if I didn't understand what she meant by the rest of it.

She smiled sadly. "Then you see something different than I do," she said. "Please. Just promise me that you won't let him slip away!"

She was desperate. I couldn't argue with her. So I just nodded mutely.

She sighed, relieved. "Thank you," she said. Then she turned. "I must be on my way. I can't rest. Not until I finally find my Corvus." She walked away, and I stared after her even after she'd dematerialised.

Then Cristine called from inside, and I started. I shook my head like a dog ridding itself of flies and headed inside.

There wasn't time to try to puzzle out what Serena had said. We had a village to get to.


	24. Chapter 24

I'D ALWAYS WANTED to explore the Bowhole. It had been a fascinating place in my mind – a mysterious realm of light and paths to places that weren't Wormwood Creek. And even though it was much less beautiful than my fantasies had made it out to be, it still ought to have been amazing.

It wasn't.

The Bowhole itself wasn't the problem, of course. Dim and slightly creepy it may have been, but that ordinarily would have just made me more eager to explore. Round every corner and down every staircase were new things. There were monsters, too, kinds I'd never seen before. No, the only problem was that my mind was somewhere completely else.

What in the world had Serena meant by that conversation?

_"I've had three hundred years to know what it feels like when something like that's taken away" – something like what? There _isn't_ anything, unless you count a grudging friendship – if you can even call this a friendship!_ Wasn't it too precarious, too strange, too easily messed up to be anything really important?

I sighed inaudibly and shoved my hands into my pockets. This was giving me a headache.

We were all pretty quiet – the Bowhole seemed to have that effect. Nick had snagged a torch off the wall of the room we'd landed in and lit it, so the area around us was lit up, but everything else was dim. I was trying to stay in the circle of flickering light, which made it really hard to stay a distance away from Erik. I just couldn't make myself walk too close to him right then. Not after what Serena had said.

The place was practically a maze. Finally, though, down several flights of stairs and across a long, rickety bridge which scared the living daylights out of me every time it shook, we came to what seemed to be the final cave. Most of it was taken up by a huge dais, upon which was the statue of a big, dragon-like monster that seemed to be armed for battle.

I put a hesitant foot on the dais and then jumped out of my skin when a solemn voice boomed through the air: "I am the keeper of the path of light!"

Nick, Erik, Cristine and I stumbled back into a little knot. I couldn't tell exactly where the voice was coming from – it was like everywhere and nowhere all at once.

"He who wishes to unlock the Wyrmward…must demonstrate his worth!"

And then the statue started to move.

"You've got to be kiddin' me," I muttered. "We have to fight a bloody statue?"

We all pulled out our weapons.

"Ga-ga-ga-gaaaaaaaaah!" roared the voice. It was growing louder, closer.

The statue leapt into the air, making all of us jump. "Gah!" cried the voice, and I realised it was coming from the statue.

"Drrrong!" It slammed back onto the dais.

The stone started to crack, piercing light shining out like there was a little sun inside; then it broke off completely, revealing a live version of the statue, identical down to the last dent in its shield.

"Go!"

Erik took that as a command and raced in, arms outstretched to attack. He was wearing the dragon claws.

The used-to-be-statue raised its shield almost faster than I could see, blocking Erik's strike. Erik was thrown off balance and stumbled back.

I steadied him and then raced forwards myself. "Let's see what you've got!" I yelled, feinting right and then going left, driving my sword towards the monster's blue hide with all the strength I could muster.

In an instant, it had dodged, and I was left with my momentum propelling me all the way across the dais. I overbalanced and managed to fall flat on my face.

Cristine lunged forwards then, but the monster knocked her aside with its shield. Nick hurried over to her, putting a hand over the shoulder the monster had hit. A soft glow emanated from his hand briefly, and then they got up and moved back towards Erik.

And it kept going like that. The monster was impossibly quick – none of us could even touch him. I could tell that the others were starting to get discouraged, but I was just annoyed. This stupid monster was supposed to guard the path of light, not keep us from warning the Hero of the Heavens when there was danger approaching! Maybe I wasn't a _proper_ Wormwood Creeker – Almighty, I hoped I wasn't! – but I was one nonetheless, and the whole purpose of that little blight of a village was to protect Upover and Greygnarl. I wasn't leaving this bloody sanctuary without finding out how to get to the path of light all the stories had talked about!

"We have to get out of here," Nick yelled finally, sounding exhausted. "This guy's too fast – we can't beat him!"

His face was ashen. I realised then that he'd been doing nothing but casting spells to heal us this whole battle – he must have been all but dead on his feet.

I clenched my teeth, warring between wanting to make sure Nick didn't kill himself trying to keep us alive and my stubborn desire to make the monster tell us how to get to the path of light. Then I got an idea.

"You guys leave!" I called. "I'll take care of this."

"Are you mad?" Cristine asked, her voice rising an octave. "You'll be killed!" She had her arms pressing down on a cut in her midsection.

I shook my head. "I'll be fine, but we can't all stay here. Nick's dead on his feet, and you need to get that cut taken care of. I can take care of this idiot on my own!"

Nick opened his mouth to protest, too, but Erik shook his head. "I think she is right," he called, and grunted as he dodged a blow from the blue monster's shield. "Let us go!"

I nodded my thanks and drew the monster's attention while Nick, Erik, and Cristine slipped off the dais and towards the doorway. "Now it's just you and me," I muttered under my breath. And then louder: "Stand and fight, why don't you, you bloody rascal? Or are you scared of a little girl who's all alone?"

A strange look passed over the monster's face, and something flickered inside of me that I knew wasn't mine. _Approval?_ But a half-second later, it had vanished.

I scowled, annoyed that it had slipped away, and struck out at the monster with all my might. My sword made contact this time, and my eyes went wide.

As soon as my sword hit, the monster froze. The glow enveloped it again, and by the time it had cleared enough that I could see, the monster had turned back to stone.

The solemn voice boomed through the air again. "You have demonstrated your worth," it said. There was a strong note of approval in the tone. "I shall reveal to you the path of light, that you may venture forth into the realm of the mighty Greygnarl, Hero of the Heavens."

I squinted through yet another flash of light (why was it always light? My corneas were going to die on me soon) to see the statue vanish like it had never even been. The light vanished with it. I blinked, praying my eyes were still working properly.

Apparently, they were, because I could still see the room. In the back of the dais was something I hadn't noticed before: a plinth with a golden bow and a single arrow lying on top.

"Yikes!" came Stella's voice from behind. "No one said there'd be a flapping great goon to get past." She sounded disgruntled. I couldn't figure out why – it wasn't like she'd had to fight it. "Well, all's well that ends in a well, I suppose. He's a goner now."

The others joined me up on the dais – they hadn't even had time to get out the door before the monster had returned to statue form.

"What d'you think that bow-and-arrow thing is up there on the pillar?" Stella asked. "Something to do with opening this path of light or whatever?"

"A wyrmlight bow," I murmured. I stepped forward. There was a little plaque on the plinth.

_The path of light in this arrow is sealed, _

_ Cradled here 'til a chosen one be revealed. _

_ Let fly this bolt o'er the Wyrmward wide, _

_ As the way unfolds, boldly onward stride._

The bow was comfortably warm to the touch, like it had been laying in the sun instead of a dim cave a hundred metres below the surface of the earth. A thrill ran through me when I picked it up. It was incredibly lightweight, like it was made of pure light.

I smiled. "Upover, here we come."

By noon, we were at Wormwood Canyon, staring out towards the other side. "Are you sure the bow will fire that far?" Nick asked.

I shrugged. "Only one way to find out, I s'pose," I said. "Who's going to shoot it?"

Cristine giggled. "I thought it'd be obvious it should be you," she said. "You're the one who beat the monster."

"Oh." I went warm. "I… If that's what works…"

Erik snorted.

I rolled my eyes at him and moved to stand on the slab of stone marking the place where the bridge across the canyon had once stood. A dragon's head was carved in it. I fitted the arrow to the string and drew the bow in a swift motion, pulling the centre of the string back to my ear.

I sighted along the arrow, adjusting my aim.

_"Fire the light unto the sky and let it lead you."_

And I relaxed, letting the arrow fly and the bow drop. The arrow soared across the canyon in a wide, bright arc, leaving a trail of light behind it. The light draped itself across the canyon from the stone on our side to the grass on the other, wide enough that all four of us could have walked across shoulder to shoulder without any trouble.

"Well, would you look at that!" Stella exclaimed. "I can make light of anything, and you can make anything out of light! What a pair!"

I sighed.

"Oi!"

"Oh no," Cristine said. "I think the villagers found us…"

"Uh-oh. Looks like you've got company," Stella agreed, and popped back into her little-ball-of-light form. I scowled.

We turned to face whoever was coming. I folded my arms.

Four villagers approached – Wallace, Doffish, the man who ran the armour shop, and the innkeeper's husband.

Doffish scowled when he saw us. "What're you doin' here?" he asked. "We just saw a whoppin' great flash back in the village." Then he looked past us, and his eyes went wide. "What the –?"

He hurried to the path. "Well I'll be stuffed! A bridge…made of light!?"

"Wow!" Wallace cried. "Did you do this, Tammy?"

I nodded silently.

Doffish was staring out at the bridge like he couldn't believe his eyes. "'The wrymward will open with the light of the statue's sanctuary, and the way to Upover will appear at last'… So this is what all that means? The old sayin' isn't just a load of yabber after all? Strewth!"

"Exactly!" Wallace said. "And now Tammy and her friends are off to give that black dragon the what-for!" He was grinning from ear to ear.

"Hmm…" Doffish shifted awkwardly. I looked down, my arms still folded. Doffish wasn't the only one who felt uncomfortable. Nor was he the only one who wanted to get away as quickly as possible.

Finally, he asked, "You weren't lyin' about bein' attacked by that dragon, were you, Tammy?"

I swallowed. "Of course not," I said, not looking up.

The discomfort in the air intensified. _Just go away,_ I prayed. _Don't say anything else. Let us leave…_

"Looks like we owe you an apology," Doffish said. He stumbled over his words. "We've just been so caught up in hatin' outsiders after what happened all them years ago…"

"I know," I said shortly. "Trust me, I know."

I was still looking determinedly at my boots, so I didn't notice until it was too late that Doffish had walked over to me. By the time I realised what had happened, he had enveloped me in a stiff, slightly awkward hug. I went rigid. _What the hell?_

"Sorry for bein' such ungrateful drogoes," Doffish whispered. He sounded choked up, and I bit my tongue. _No._ No way was I going to cry because of him. I'd done it too many times already…

"You should be," I said. My voice was choppy from the tears I'd decided I wasn't going to cry. But I didn't pull away. I couldn't.

"Tammy, please…"

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying vainly to keep everything inside. "Ten years, one month, and sixteen days," I whispered. "It was the worst part of my life, Doffish."

"I know," he said. "And I wish I could take it back."

"So do I." My voice broke. _Oh, bloody hell…_

Abruptly, I freed my arms from Doffish's hug and threw them around him. "I'm sorry," I choked out. "I can't… I can't… I have to go, I can't stay here!" I shoved back, whirled round, and sprinted across the bridge.

I didn't stop until I was far away from everyone on the other side.

* * *

Against his initial impulse, Erik did not run across the bridge after Tammy. He remained with the others until they had said an awkward farewell to Tammy's father and cousin, and did not hurry ahead as he, Nick, and Cristine finally crossed the bridge towards Upover.

It took some time before they were able to find Tammy, by which point her eyes looked rather red but she seemed otherwise all right. She did not say a word about anything that had occurred on the other side of the chasm. "Come on," she said in a tone that discourage any other topic. "I can see the Magmaroo. It shouldn't be too far now."

"Tammy, are you…are you sure we'll find Greygnarl?" Cristine asked. "I mean, it's been three hundred years. By all rights, he ought to be long dead."

Tammy shrugged. "I don't know for sure whether or not we'll find him," she admitted. "But Hootingham-Gore talked about him… I figure he's still there, one way or another. Even if it's just his ghost. And besides, it's all of Upover we need to warn, not just the one who's proven he can take care of himself. Whether we find Greygnarl or not, we'll be doin' some good by going up there." She shoved her hands in her pocket and said nothing else.

Despite what Tammy had said, it was rather far to the Magmaroo. Nick and Cristine fell to talking, but neither Erik nor Tammy said more than one or two words for the rest of the journey.

It was an uphill battle to keep his mind off of the thought of the traitor Aquila. Erik knew that brooding upon his betrayal would do nothing. It would not change the fact of it. It would not allow Erik to fasten his fingers into the traitor's neck and –

He clenched his jaw and tried to banish the thought before it could take root. It was impossible. Aquila could not be killed, not by Erik – he was powerless to stand against a senior Celestrian. Though the thought of that made his blood boil just as strongly as did the thought of the traitor.

Erik's thoughts whirled round and round upon the subject until finally they reached the foot of a tall, steep staircase leading up the side of the Magmaroo. If he craned his head back, he could see the edges of roofs poking out over the sides of a platform far above.

"Upover," Tammy whispered. "We're here…"

It was ten minutes' exertion to clamber up the stairs. Each one rose nearly to Erik's knee and would scarcely be deep enough to accommodate a grown man's foot. It was much more of a climb than a walk, and it was impossible for Erik to get the thought of falling out of his head. It was an enormous relief when they finally reached the top.

"And we _still_ aren't at the top part of the village," Cristine sighed. "Look, there's another layer up there."

She was right.

"It could be worse, I guess," Nick said fairly. "Upover could be a city. We'd never find Greygnarl there."

A couple of villagers were looking at the four newcomers oddly. Erik sighed. "Let us ask after him," he said, setting off in the direction of the inn. "It ought not to be difficult."

Their questions eventually led them to the second level, to a house near the cave leading inside of the Magmaroo. It was, according to the woman who'd pointed them up there, the home of Upover's mayor.

"G'day," said the portly man who opened the door. He seemed quite surprised to see four youths at his door. "I'm the mayor of Upover. What brings you all the way up here to the mountains?"

"We're looking for Greygnarl, sir," Nick said. "We need his help to chase down a big black dragon."

The mayor blinked. "Don't be daft!" he said. "The only big black dragon was Barbarus, and Greygnarl saw to him three hundred years back."

"Yeah, that's the thing," Tammy said, smiling humourlessly. "Seems that Barbarus isn't as gone as we all thought."

The mayor stared at her. Finally, after mouthing silently for a moment, he came out with, "I don't reckon you'd come all this way just to tell fibs, so I guess there must be something in it… Okay, why don't you head up the Magmaroo and see old Greygnarl. Let's see what he has to say about it. I reckon you're on a wild goose chase, but we can hardly let you trek all the way up here and then turn you away, eh?" He chuckled nervously. Tammy's Barbarus comment seemed to have rattled him. "Greygnarl lives all the way up at the summit of the Magmaroo. There's a cave outside me house here that leads all the way up there. You'll have to go through there."

"Thank you," Cristine said, but before they could leave, another voice came from inside the house.

"So you're off to see old Greygnarl, are ya?" it asked.

The mayor turned and all of them looked in to see an old woman smiling out at them. "Well, I ain't seen him for yonks, so say g'day from me, and tell him I'm doin' just fine since he left me in charge down here, okay?"

They were halfway through nodding when she exclaimed, "Ahh, what am I thinkin'? I can't have yez doin' me dirty work for me just 'cos I'm gettin' on a bit. I'll trek up there meself."

Apparently, though, she didn't feel like doing so at the moment, for Erik, Nick, Tammy, and Cristine were able to leave the house unaccompanied.

Stella popped out then. "I've been thinking…" she said.

Tammy rolled her eyes. "Almighty help us all."

Erik snorted. Cristine giggled. Nick did a very poor job of hiding a smile. Stella glared at them all.

"This Greygnarl we're supposed to go and meet…" she said pointedly. "He was around three hundred years ago, right?" So how come he's still alive? You don't think he's some kind of zombie, do you…? Eeeurgh! I hate rotten, stinking zombies…"

The five of them looked at one another nervously. "I guess there's only one way to find out," Tammy said.

So they set out for the top of the volcano.

* * *

Almost...there...*pants loudly* Jeez, I don't think I'm ever going to see the end of this story! There's just so much that needs to be said and done...

I think my teachers from last year told my teachers this year about the fact that I'll sit in class and write if I have my laptop open - there's got to be a reason why so many of them don't like us having our computers out in class! It stinks, too. I wrote the entire first draft (and edited several other drafts) of _Peace in Paradise_ just during last school year. Even if they don't want laptops in class, it'd be nice if they'd give us just a little less to do after school so I could work on my own stuff. There's _Song of the Souls_, college stuff, job stuff (just ideas, of course; I can't join the rat race just yet!), original stories that need working on, and lots of marketing and publishing research for _Peace in Paradise_. Not to mention maybe revising it a couple more times... I'm sure I'll find something that could use tinkering next time I read it through!

Okay, enough of my kvetching. May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!


	25. Chapter 25

THE WALK UP the Magmaroo was not fun.

There was everything whirling round in my brain, for starters. I couldn't figure out whether I wanted to cry or scream or just sit down and stare blankly at something and never move again. I knew that if I thought too much about it, though, I'd probably cry, so I tried to focus on somebody else.

Not that anybody else's feelings were all that pleasant, either.

It was quite literally as hot as hell inside the lava-lined tunnels, and we were all feeling it. The uncertainty about what we were going to find on top of the volcano had us on tenterhooks. I could practically feel Cristine chewing her tongue, and Nick was gripping his staff hard enough that I was just waiting for it to shatter. There was pity, which made me want to spit, even though Cristine was my best friend and probably had every right to feel sorry for me. And even though it was a little buried by everything else going through their minds, there was still that stupid bloody beautiful emotion – love – that made me want to cry even more.

And then there was Erik.

I was trying even harder to escape his emotions than I was mine. Saying he was angry would have been an understatement. He was furious – beyond furious – cycling between fury and suppression with an intensity that made me shudder. Every muscle in his body was tense. It was terrifying. Intoxicating, almost. And even though I tried to pull away, it kept pulling me deeper into it.

We'd been walking through the tunnel in these lovely frames of mind for about ten minutes before I decided I couldn't take it any more. I couldn't do anything about nerves or pity or me wanting to cry – but those weren't the worst, anyway. Erik was. So, steeling myself, I moved closer to him. "Erik," I said quietly, "let it go."

Slowly, he turned to look at me. His face was determinedly neutral – if it hadn't been for empathy, I'd never had known that anything was wrong. In almost unnaturally quiet and controlled voice, he said, "Excuse me?"

I swallowed. "Let it go," I said again. "Whatever it is that's got you so angry. It's drivin' me mad, and I'm not even the one who actually has to feel it! I don't know what it is, but it's not worth it."

He looked at me for a long moment, and I didn't look away, despite the fact that his anger was really freaking me out and I could see something stirring in the backs of his eyes.

"Let it go," he said quietly. We'd both stopped. Nick and Cristine paused and glanced over at us. "Yes, I suppose that is what I ought to do. _Let it go_." He took a step towards me, and I almost shrank back. The neutral mask was slipping away from his face, and anger seemed to thrill every fibre of his body. Every word seemed to verge on a shout when he snapped, "Have I not already explained to you, Tammy, the bond between master and apprentice? I have, if memory serves – and I believe I mentioned the fact that you would never be able to understand the depth of such a bond!"

Oh, the anger was out now. He seemed to tower over me, hatred and anger in every line of his face. I struggled to keep it out of me, and to remember it wasn't really me he was so angry at. I certainly pitied Aquila if Erik ever got hold of him.

"By your own testimony, you do not have a father, not one who is a true father figure. _I did!_ Strange and fierce as he may have been, he was my master, as close to a parent as any Celestrian has. I ask you, how would you feel if your father were to betray you?" He glared at me. "But of course, you would not know, because you, through your stubborn, _mortal_ stupidity have pushed away anyone and everyone who may have had some slight feeling of affection towards you – even your own father! So do not dare to speak to me of letting it go, Tammy _Doffish_."

He turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving me standing there like I'd sprouted roots and grown them deep down into the volcanic rock. I stared and felt my face twist into a slow scowl. There were a thousand things I wanted to do to him in response. How would he feel, I could shout, to have grown up all alone, without any father figure at all? To feel like he was a freak for something he couldn't control? I could run up, whirl him round, and punch him in his stupid face – I could turn round myself and leave him to stew in his angry madness – I could – I could –

I could, I realised, _but I won't_. It wasn't me who was so angry. Well, it was a little – I didn't think anyone could have taken that outburst without getting at least a little mad – but not entirely. Not even mostly. It was just Erik.

I clenched my fists, wondering whether my conscience would let me punch him anyway.

Then I sighed.

It wouldn't.

For a long moment, I watched him walk away. I was aware of Nick and Cristine doing the same thing from beside me. Erik's outburst had startled them even more than it had me. But I wasn't paying much attention to anything inside the cavern. I was searching through my memories for the right song.

It wasn't easy to find. Everyone's emotions were still swirling round in me, not distracting me really but colouring my mood and making it harder to sift for something different. Finally, though, I caught hold of the right chord. It started echoing through my head, and I smiled.

And then I started to sing.

None of the songs had ever had words, of course, and generally I was bad at making up lyrics on the spot, but this time seemed to be the exception. I wasn't conscious of the words until they left my mouth, but once they did, they felt right. The song made my heart rise, a smile come over Cristine's face, a blissful look over Nick's, and made Erik's anger cool. It was one I'd only heard once or twice, but it was wonderful.

It was peace.

I started walking like I would have normally, even though everyone else – including Erik – had stopped. As I reached Erik, I smiled slightly and touched his arm. Then I let the song end.

"Like I said," I murmured, "it's not worth it. I'll be first in line to admit that life can be really awful, but I've learnt enough about it to know that there's always good in it somewhere. Even when it looks hopeless."

He looked down and said nothing for a moment. Finally, he muttered, "When did you stop being the cynic of this group?"

I snickered. "There's a difference between cynicism and being realistic," I informed him. "I said there's good in life, and it's true, but I don't waste time lookin' for it when I could go out and make a little good on my own. It's faster to do that anyway."

Erik rolled his eyes. I smiled. It was good to have him back, if only just for a moment.

"Hey," I said then, glancing at Nick and Cristine. "Are we heading for Greygnarl or not? Let's get goin'!"

Cristine smiled. "Right," she said. "Greygnarl. Let's see what we find."

So we set out up the volcano with peace playing through our heads.

* * *

The summit was warm, but not nearly as hot as the inside of the volcano. We circled round the path and across a thankfully stable bridge to a stone platform on the opposite side of the crater. An enormous cave was set into the rock backing the platform. It was easily three metres high and five across.

"Is that where he lives?" Nick whispered. "It doesn't look like anyone's inside – too dark."

"Only one way to find out," I said, trying and failing to sound confident. I stepped forwards and called, "Greygnarl, are you there? We need to talk to you!"

There was a deep rumbling noise from inside the cave. Something gleamed, and I swallowed. They were eyes. Gleaming, yellow eyes. And they were a lot further up than any normal human's could be...

The four of us stepped together as a deep, rich voice boomed out. "Who dares disturb me?"

_Thump. Thump. Thump._ The ground shook as the yellow eyes moved closer.

Slowly, they moved into the ambient light at the front of the cave, and my eyes went wide.

Greygnarl exited the cave, stretching his white wings, ridged and veined and thin and large as sails. He examined us with his huge yellow eyes, approaching us on clawed feet. Every step was accompanied by a _thump_ and a shaking of the ground. And I knew how he'd been able to have defeated Barbarus three hundred years before and still be alive.

It was because he was a _dragon_.

Clearly, he was not as shocked to see us as we were to see him. He sniffed once and said, "Hmm. You are not villagers, I see." He shook his massive head, ruffling his mane. "I am Greygnarl, Hero of the Heavens. What business do you have with me, wander –"

And then he broke off, upper lip curling into a growl. We shrank back.

He glared at us suspiciously. "The stench that surrounds you… It is one I cannot easily forget. It is the very rancor that lay thick about the denizens of the Gittish Empire…"

My eyes went wide. _Wait, he thinks we're –?_

"So, you are agents of the House of Gitt, sent to destroy me? Do you fools never learn?"

I could feel Erik's anger bubbling back up at being mistaken for a Gitt. "Scaly fool -!" he snapped.

"Very well," Greygnarl growled. "Since you insist, you shall bear witness to the awesome power of dragonkind!"

He roared, rearing back.

I rolled my eyes. "Can't anything be easy?" I muttered.

But we had to fight, if only just in self-defence. If we didn't, we'd probably have been reduced to charred skeletons within seconds. I couldn't quite believe what was going on, which made it easier. If I'd thought about the fact that we were fighting the Hero of the Heavens, the star of all the legends I'd heard growing up - not to mention the entire reason we'd come to Upover in the first place - I don't think I'd have been able to fight him.

Erik was the only one of us who seemed to be actually willing to fight. I sighed inwardly. If I hadn't been so worried that something bad was going to happen if he didn't find a way to release his anger, I'd have been really annoyed at him. How were we supposed to convince Greygnarl we weren't Gitts if Erik acted like he was trying to kill him?

We ducked behind shields as Greygnarl breathed a jet of flame across the platform.

Then he snapped his jaws shut as a voice echoed up towards us: "Hang on! Wait up! Wait just a bloomin' second!"

We all turned round to see the old woman from the mayor's house hurrying up to the platform. She was scowling.

"I get a feelin' in me bones that something's up, so I hoof it all the way up here, and what do I find?" She glared round at us. "The whole ruddy bunch o' yez, fightin' like nippers! I thought you wanted Greygnarl here to help yez with this dark dragon?"

"It's not our fault!" I said, indignant. "He wouldn't give us a chance to explain!"

"'Dark dragon'...?" Greygnarl growled. "So Barbarus is abroad once more... Three long centuries have passed since I defeated that evil fiend."

The old woman rolled her eyes. "Well you musta done a ruddy shonky job of it if he's up and about again, eh? Now look here, these nippers need your help..."

"I understand," Greygnarl said. "You wish me to take to the skies and vanquish mighty Barbarus as I did so long ago..."

"Oh," the old woman said, and bit her lip. "Ah, I dunno about that... um... Maybe just a few words of advice or something, you know?"

Greygnarl glared. "So you think me a wizened old lizard too feeble to face one such as he? Hmph!" he snorted. I flinched back as a jet of flame passed about ten centemetres in front of my face. "Either way it matters not. I will not help you." He turned his glare on us. "Do I seem frail and foolish enough to believe tales of Barbarus's return told by maggots who come to me reeking of the Empire?"

"It's the truth," Cristine said pleadingly. "Please, if you'd just listen -"

The old woman shook her head slightly. "All right, all right, keep yer bloomin' hair on," she told Greygnarl. "You won't help. We get it." She shrugged at us. "Well, you heard the old coot. Sorry. There's naff-all I can do if he wants to act like such a big bloomin' baby. Sorry, chookies. It's probably best if yez skedaddle now."

"Too bloomin' right!" Greygnarl agreed. I blinked and looked at him with my eyes wide. "Rack off, the lot o' yez!"

The old woman shooed us away, so we went. I shook my head in disbelief. "Bloody hell, he's got more of an accent than me!"

Nick snorted. "Really?" he asked. "After all that, his accent is what strikes you as weird?"

I laughed. "Well, not _just_ his accent," I said. "But you gotta admit, it's hilarious!"

"I suppose you are right," Erik said. Then he sighed. "The fool. How could he mistake us for agents of the Gittish Empire?"

Cristine sighed. "Who knows?" she said. "I just wish he'd been willing to listen to us. There's nothing we'll be able to do alone when Barbarus comes."

I shoved my hands in my pockets. "At least then he might believe us," I muttered. "I just hope it doesn't take that much."

"Blimey!" Stella said then, popping out. "Well that was a bit of a turnip for the books, the Hero of the Heavens turning out to be a grumpy old dragon! I suppose that's how come he can have fought the Empire three hundred years ago and still be alive, eh? But he didn't look up to much, did he? If he ever was a hero, he'd be the only one old enough to remember! He wouldn't listen to a word you said, and he can't even fly anyway. Looks like we were flogging a dead donkey. Let's go."

I raised my eyebrows at her. "Did _you _listen to a word we just said?" I asked. "Because I'm pretty sure we just covered basically all of that. We didn't really need your help to sum it all up."

She flushed angrily and retreated back to her little ball of light. I rolled my eyes.

The journey back down wasn't quite as bad as the one up, but when we came out of the cave back in Upover, I realised something was wrong. The air in the village was thick with tension. I hurried to see what everyone was staring at down on the lower tier, and then skidded to a halt as I spotted it. "What the -?"

Three monsters were standing in the midst of a group of injured people: a fright knight and two stenchurions. They were standing up straight and tall like a trio of soldiers. And then the fright knight spoke.

"We are, as I am sure you are aware, soldiers of the almighty and eternal Gittish Empire," he said importantly. My eyes went wide. "Upover has long been a hotbed of anti-Imperial sentiment, so we felt a spot of total obliteration might rather improve the place."

"Uh-oh," I muttered. "Guys -"

"Let's go!" Cristine exclaimed. "We've got to hold them off."

We raced down the stairs as one of the stenchurions said, "Now, if you'd be so kind as to let us wipe you and that ghastly Greygnarl off the face of the planet, we'd be much obliged."

"How about no?" I called, drawing my sword and leaping down the last few steps.

"Don't -" one of the villagers yelled, but I had a little too much momentum to stop. I drove my sword clean through a chink in the breastplate of the closest stenchurion. It had about half a second of shock before it exploded into dust.

We were tired from fighting Greygnarl earlier and the monsters/soldiers were tough, but we had enough energy left in us to put up a fight. I almost got shanked by the fright knight and only escaped by stumbling back and falling over. Cristine distracted it with Hot Lick before it could try to attack me again.

The other stenchurion fell to Erik's claws, and the fright knight, realising both its cronies were gone, took a step back. "G-Goodness..." he stammered. "It...seems that some of these insurgents are...a little less b-backward than we thought. We...must inform His Goreship..."

"Hoo, hoo, hoo," chuckled a familiar voice. My head snapped up. "There will be no need. I am already aware of your hoomiliating defeat."

Then Hootingham-Gore dropped down in the middle of the village.

We turned, weapons drawn.

"L-Lieutenant Hootingham-Gore!" stammered the fright knight. "P-Please! Your Goreship! You must h-help -"

"Hoo..." Hootingham-Gore said coolly. "I hardly think that one incompetent enough to allow himself to be bested by mere mortals, to wit yourself, deserves help. Those hoo disgrace the great name of the Gittish Empire should be made an example of, don't you think? Hoo, hoo, hoo..."

I shuddered. Didn't these people even take care of their own?

"M-My goodness!" exclaimed the fright knight, backing away. "No, Y-Your Goreship! I - Oh! Oh my! S-Somebody help meeeee!"

The last bit was because the end of Hootingham-Gore's staff had started to crackle with energy. The fright knight tried to run, but Hootingham-Gore let the energy loose. Nick, Erik, Cristine and I scrambled back and it passed us by, but the fright knight wasn't so lucky. The energy hit him dead on. His shape flickered, and he screamed - I gasped and stumbled back - and then the pain vanished along with every trace of the fright knight. "St-Strewth!" exclaimed one of the villagers.

Then Hootingham-Gore turned his attention on us. "Ohh, hoo interesting..." he said, looking at Erik. "I knew I recognised you from somewhere. Hoo should it be but Aquila's apprentice."

Erik's nostrils flared. I wanted to touch his arm or something, try to calm him down, but I didn't really want to open myself up to everything I could feel going through him. So I just shifted slightly, making sure that he couldn't charge out and attack.

"So, you are alive..." Hootingham-Gore said. "Then it's not only Greygnarl and his rabble hoo need eliminating around here. Well, it doesn't matter a hooge amount. You, Greygnarl, Upover, and all hoo infest this wretched hillside will soon cease to trouble us."

Then he vanished, which was probably a good thing for him. Erik had started forwards like he was planning to gut the bird-man.

After a long, silent moment of shock, the villagers started to move to help the injured people. Nick, Erik, Cristine and I joined them. Maybe we couldn't get Greygnarl's help to take care of his village, but we could certainly do our best to help take care of it ourselves.

* * *

The injured were put up in Upover's inn. Since it was full up except for one room, the four of us squeezed in there and spent the night surprisingly cosily.

The next morning, we were wandering aimlessly round the village when the old woman waved to us. We hurried over, since she looked like she wanted to talk.

"Just the chookies I was lookin' for," she said, smiling. "It's Greygnarl. He gave me a message to give to yez. Strewth alone knows why, but the old flibbertigibbet says he'll hear you out after all. There's a couple of conditions, though... He said that if ya head up there on yer own -" she nodded to Erik - "and take a keg of Drunken Dragon with ya, he'll give you another go. Drunken Dragon's a drink we make here in Upover. Old Greychops is partial to a schooner or twenty of the stuff."

I grinned. "A dragon after my own heart."

Erik rolled his eyes.

"We make it in a storeroom down the stairs over there," the old woman continued, hooking her thumb at the stairs. "Best get down there and grab yerself a keg."

I sighed quietly as she left. "How come the grumpy old dragon gets a drink?" I wondered aloud. "I think if anyone deserves it, it's the four kids who risked their lives yesterday to kick the Gittish monsters out of the village..."

"Is that really all that goes through your mind when we receive a second chance to convince the dragon to assist us?" Erik asked, raising an eyebrow.

I grinned. "Did you expect anythin' else?"

He sighed. Cristine shook her head, smiling slightly. Nick opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then he closed it again, rubbing his nose. "Oh my..."

Erik headed down the stairs and came up a minute later carrying a fairly large keg of something that I assumed was Drunken Dragon. "With any luck, I shall not be long," he said. "Wait here."

I raised my eyebrows. "And how do you intend to get up there with that thing in your arms? You can't cast your little zoom spell, and I really doubt you want to walk all the way up there weighed down by it." I held a hand out a hand. "One of us ought to hold onto it, since you're the only one who can cast the spell."

"Are you volunteering?" Erik asked.

I shrugged. "Well, I'm not big on that grumpy old lizard, but we might as well do our best to get his help. Why not?"

"You realise that Greygnarl asked for Erik to come alone," Nick pointed out.

"I'll stay out of sight."

Erik paused for a moment, and then nodded. "Very well," he said. He handed me the keg.

I grunted. "Almighty, this thing's heavy. How much drink does that stupid dragon want?"

"You volunteered."

"I'm commentin', not complainin'." I shifted the weight of the keg. "Okay. Let's go."

Erik took hold of my arm and raised his free hand to cast the spell. Then he paused, glancing at Nick and Cristine. "If anything should happen," he said, "make sure the two of you escape safely. If possible, find a way to the Observatory and alert Apus Major to Aquila's betrayal."

Nick opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but Cristine put a hand on his arm and nodded. "_If _anything happens," she said. "Good luck, you two."

"Thank you," Erik said. And he cast the spell.

An instant later, we were just round the bend in the path from the bridge to the platform. Erik took the keg. I helped him to steady it, then stood there a little awkwardly. I felt like I ought to shake his hand or something and wish him luck, but both his hands were full.

He looked down at the keg. "Tammy," he said, "if anything happens...promise me you will leave with Nick and Cristine. I do not want any of you injured."

I blinked. Then I shook my head. "I'm not really into makin' promises I can't keep," I told him. Then I smiled wryly. "Besides...in case you haven't noticed, I'm kinda bad at leavin' when people need help."

Erik rolled his eyes. "I have noticed," he said. "That is the reason that you have nearly died several times on this journey. It is an admirable quality, but for your own well-being I would advise that you learn to care slightly less about the welfare of others and more about the preservation of your life."

I smiled. "Now, what fun would that be?" I asked. "Here, just promise _me_ that nothin' will happen, and we won't have to worry about it."

The corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly. "Very well, then," he said. "You have my word. So long as it is within my control, nothing shall happen."

"See, that's all I needed." I stuck my hands in my pockets. "Now shoo. You've got a dragon to deal with."

He sighed. "Do not remind me."

Then he headed round to the platform.

I stayed there, wishing I could hear them talk. Greygnarl's rumbling voice was audible, but it was too soft for me to be able to make out anything he said. I couldn't hear Erik at all.

It went on that way for a moment, and then there was a loud noise that sounded an awful lot like a hiccough. I blinked.

"Ahhh, you little beaut!" came Greygnarl's voice then, louder than it had been. "Strewth, that hits the spot!"

I snickered. Sounded like the dragon could have done with a little less drink in his keg.

Since I doubted he'd much care if he spotted me now, I snuck round to get a better view of what was going on up on the platform. Greygnarl seemed to be swaying a little. Erik was standing in front of him. I could just picture the look on his face now, faced with the drunk old dragon.

"Oh year, sorry doll, I - Hic! - plumb forgot," Greygnarl said, looking blearily down at Erik. "This is for bein' such a true blue trooper." He held out a clawed foot. Erik took whatever he'd been handed and examined it. "I - Hic! - got this when I creamed one o' the Triumgorate three hundred years back. He seemed to think it was pretty important. It ain't worth a zack to me, but I was thinkin' maybe you could sell it and make a bit of - Hic! - moolah or somethin'."

I grinned. I liked the old lizard much better this way.

Then something jolted through the air like a heavy beat on a base drum, only much louder and much lower. All three of our heads snapped up, looking for the source. "Hold up! HIC!" Greygnarl exclaimed. "What was that? Uh-oh. I'd know that - Hic! - stink anywhere..."

I recognised it through him. "Barbarus!" I breathed.

Then a ball of darkness blasted into the platform. "Erik!" I yelled, squinting through the smoke. The darkness hadn't hit him, had he?

I made out his shape and felt about half a second of relief before the base drum beat grew closer. I whirled round to see Barbarus rising up over the side of the mountains. He roared. Instead of fire, he breathed out more darkness, and it rained down on Upover. I heard screams.

_No -!_ I thought. _Cristine - Nick - _

There was a soft flash from down below, and I felt a little relief. The two of them had made it out, at least. I could recognise the effects of a chimaera wing.

"Stone the crows, it's really him!" Greygnarl exclaimed. "It's that - Hic! - blighter Barbarus! What the blue blazes does he think he's - Hic! - doin' attackin' the village? He must be tryin' to - Hic! - rile me up, eh. Righto. If that's the way he - Hic! - wants to play it. I've got Erik here, so I'm - Hic! - good to go."

He looked down at Erik, who had torn his gaze from the smoke rising from the village to look up at the dragon. I furrowed my brow. What was Greygnarl intending to do? He couldn't fly!

"Guess what, Erik?" Greygnarl said. "I've got a right ripper of a - Hic! - present for ya: yer very own set of dragon warrior gear. All's you gotta do it chuck it on, climb up there on me - Hic! - back, and I'll be up and flyin' in no time."

"Watch out!" I shouted , seeing something hurtling down towards the platform. "Erik - Greygnarl -"

Whatever it was crashed down and rose. Erik and Greygnarl turned to look.

It was an aggrosculpture, and apparently, it could talk.

"Sorry...old...boy...but...we...can't...allow...th at... Lieutenant...Hootingham...Gore's...orders...are... to...give...this...little...upstart...a...hiding.. ."

I drew my sword, waiting.

"We...cannot...let...the...dragon...warrior...retu rn...to...roam...the...skies...astride...Greygnarl ... You...will...die...for...defying...the...mighty... Gittish...Empire!"

And then he lunged for Erik, and I sprinted across the bridge. "Oh, no you don't!" I yelled, slashing at the monster's stone wings. There was an awful screech of metal on rock and a nasty crunching noise as the rock structure broke.

"Tammy, I told you to leave!" Erik yelled. He dodged a slash from the aggrosculpture's claw and retaliated with one of his own.

"And I told you I wasn't makin' any promises," I replied. "Oi, stonebrain, over here!"

Erik groaned in frustration but didn't argue with me any more.

Killing the aggrosculpture didn't take long. We both turned to Greygnarl when it was done. "Nice one!" he growled approvingly. "Good - Hic! - work. Right, Erik, get this dragon warrior gear on quick smart."

He roared, and out of his cave floated a big leather bag. Erik caught hold of it and set it on the ground.

"Once you've put it all on and jumped up on me back, I should be able to channel a bit of - Hic! - magic and get airborne. I can't beat Barbarus if I can't fly, so you're with me whether you like it or not, kiddo." He turned his gaze on me as Erik started pulling on the pieces of armour from the bag. "You're gonna have to - Hic! - scarper, though," he told me. "I can't carry the both o' yez, not with me wings damaged like they are."

I scowled. "There's no way I'm lettin' the two of you go up and risk your lives alone," I said.

Erik stopped halfway through pulling on one of the armoured boots from the bag. "Oh, no," he said sharply. "Tammy, you are not to be stubborn about this. There is absolutely no possible way for you to help - and even if there was, I would not allow it! It is too dangerous!"

"When have I ever cared about that?" I asked. "I don't care about dangerous, Erik - there's no bloody way you're gettin' up there without me -"

"What did I just tell yez about me wings!?"

"And as for your not allowin' it, well, let me just say -"

Except I couldn't just say, because my mouth was suddenly busy doing something else. There was about half a second of shock and staring cross-eyed at Erik's face, which was closer than anything else I'd ever seen in my life, and then my body took over, some kind of groan escaped, and I was kissing him back.

This was like nothing else in the world. I couldn't think, I couldn't quite breathe, but I couldn't quite care about either of those things because I was on fire, Erik was on fire, and there was a storm of emotions raging inside and around us in a way that I'd never ever felt before and it was terrifying and beautiful and exhilarating all at once. Something was right here. Something was utterly right -

And then my brain turned back on and I stumbled back, breathing hard. My eyes were wide. I looked up to see Erik standing perfectly still right where I'd left him. His eyes were wide, too. I could feel him ringing with shock.

"Erik," I said quietly, "what the bloody hell was that?"

He didn't answer. Slowly, he raised a hand and touched his lips like he wasn't quite sure what had happened.

"Erik," I said again, more sharply. "What was that?"

"I'll give ya a hint," Greygnarl said, sounding like he was holding back a laugh. "It's called a _kiss_, kid!"

"You are not helping!" Erik snapped, whirling to look at him.

High above us, Barbarus roared again and let loose with more jets of darkness.

"Dammit," I muttered. "You're not off the hook, Erik, this is comin' back to haunt you soon, but get the armour on and up in the air!" I could feel my voice shaking, even though I was trying to make it sound strong. My whole body was trembling.

"You...you still cannot come with us," Erik said, not looking at me. "There is no way for you to take to the air."

I bit my lip. "Actually...I think there is." This had to be it - what Mum had talked about when she'd told me I'd need to help someone even though help seemed impossible to give. I didn't know what the dust would do, but I had to try.

Erik was pulling on the armour. "Tammy, what are you -"

"Trust me!" I pulled the little drawstring bag out and tugged it open. The dust was inside, glowing softly. My stomach did a nervous flip. This might be really stupid. I didn't know how the dust would affect me. Mum had said it would draw out my Faerie half, but I didn't know what exactly that meant.

It was my best shot, though, so I held my breath and dumped the dust out over my head.

Greygnarl blinked in shock, but that was all I saw before the dust started swirling so thick round me that it completely closed off my vision. It swirled faster and faster, closing in. It was warm inside the vortex, and bright.

_This is so weird...!_

When the dust vortex touched me, warmth spread all through me. I gasped as things suddenly sharpened, my senses feeling like they'd shaken off a veil that I hadn't even realised had been there until that moment. The dust had disappeared, but I knew that it had worked. Just my newly sharp senses attested to that.

I shook my head, trying to clear it, and realised that Fae dust particles seemed to shake loose and float to the ground. My eyes went wide. It was like the way the dust had acted around Mum...

"What," Erik said, "was that?" He had all the armour on, the helm under his arm, and he was staring at me.

"Mum," I murmured. "She..."

Greygnarl grinned and blew a jet of flame into the air. "Faerie dust, kid!" he said. "I don't know how she got it, but your little girlfriend's quite resourceful." Erik and I both flushed. "Ya can't see it, o' course, but that'll - Hic! - give her Fae powers." He hiccoughed again and looked at us proudly. "Right, let's get crackin'! That Drunken - Hic! - Dragon's done me the power o' good! This'll be a walkover, I can feel it!"

Erik looked at me, his brows furrowed up. I shrugged a little bit. Then he shook his head like he was trying to clear it and put on the helm.

"Hic! Look at ya!" Greygnarl said. "Every inch the dragon warrior, eh? Righto, hop up on me - Hic! - back, then."

A trio of chimaeras zoomed in as Erik clambered up onto Greygnarl's back. I swallowed nervously. I didn't know what to do with this!

"Oh yeah... Bonzer. I can feel it... All me power's comin' back to me now... We'll have Barbarus barbied and be back before dinner! Let's get crackin', kiddo!"

He leapt into the air, unfurling his wings. Throwing caution to the winds, I sprinted out and leapt off the side of the platform. A hot wind from below caught me, and I felt a rush of joy as I understood. I didn't need to _know _how to do this - I just _could_.

I soared beside Greygnarl, my sword out so I could fend off the chimaeras. It was the easiest thing I'd ever done. I could fight just as well - if not better - up in the air than on the ground. And I discovered something when one of the chimaeras darted in too quickly for me to fend it off with sword or shield: I didn't need a spell to use magic. I put a hand out in front of me instinctively and let out a jet of flame, singeing the chimaera. I grinned fiercely.

"Where are you, Barbarus?" roared Greygnarl. "Show yerself!"

We had paused, hovering over the volcano, looking round. It had started out as a cloudy day, but it seemed to be getting more overcast. It was starting to get dark.

Then a noise from my right made me whirl round. Greygnarl heard it, too, and turned.

"Over there, eh?" he growled. "I can't believe yer still alive..."

Barbarus laughed darkly. "Believe," he said in a low, growling voice that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. For a long moment, we all hovered there, staring one another down. Then Barbarus reared back and roared, "And die!"

I darted aside as Greygnarl lunged. Then I sped alongside the two dragons as they grappled, shooting jets of flame and darkness from their maws. Erik was holding onto Greygnarl for dear life. I did the best I could to help, directing attacks at Barbarus's thick, scaly black hide. He roared every time they made contact.

It was exhausting work - the fact that I could fly and cast spells didn't mean I could do it without expending energy, and the two dragons were fighting so fiercely that I was surprised either of them was still alive. Finally, they drew apart. I moved closer to Greygnarl, putting a hand on his side. Another wave of exhaustion rolled over me, but overriding it was Greygnarl's determination. I knew that no level of weariness would stop him.

"Hm hm hm," Barbarus chuckled. "You are formidable yet, Greygnarl." His eyes gleamed a sudden, dangerous violet. "But this will not end as it did when last we met."

A net of dark lightning built itself around him.

"What in the bloomin' blue blazes?" Greygnarl snarled.

Then the lightning exploded out. Three screams rent the air as it wrapped its crackling tendrils around us, a thousand times more powerful than the curse that Morag had cast on me all those weeks ago when we'd first started this whole thing. I was stronger, too, but it didn't make it any more bearable.

When the energy finally dissipated, I felt myself drop several metres before I managed to regain control. Trying to get the altitude back left me winded.

Barbarus's eyes were still gleaming darkly. "I command a power far greater than any you have ever known," he said exultantly. Then he reared back. "And you will bow before it!"

"No!" I yelled, but the shield I tried to fling up between Barbarus and the three of us shattered into fragments of energy against the strength of the curse. All it did was slow by milliseconds the moment of impact -

And then there was just pain, and I couldn't know anything else. It was like there had never been anything but the pain - never had been, never would be, like there was only an eternity of this crackling, burning sensation through my bones and blood and tissues, ripping me to shreds but at the same time tying me to myself and to the other two with threads of molten _something _that weren't ever going to let us go.

It was forever before the pain stopped, and I fell from the air onto Greygnarl's back. He, Erik, and I hung limply in the air, hardly able to breathe. _Please,_ I thought weakly. _Please, don't let him do it again...I can't stand it, I can't!_

"Hm hm hm," laughed Barbarus. "You have had enough? Very well."

Greygnarl looked up. I forced myself up and off of his back so that I could see what was going on.

Barbarus had reared back again. Panicked, I threw up another shield, pouring as much energy as I thought I could stand into it. Maybe, just maybe...

Darkness was gathering above the black dragon's open maw, growing bigger and bigger and bigger.

"Now watch," he roared, "and despair!"

He turned, aiming towards Upover.

"Wh-What the!?" Greygnarl roared.

"Simply to destroy you would not be enough," Barbarus said, deadly quiet. "First, you must witness the destruction of your home."

And he let fly with the ball of darkness.

Every muscle in Greygnarl's body went tense as the darkness flew. "I can't let him do this..." he growled. He flapped his wings twice, rising higher into the air. "It's been short but sweet, kiddo."

Then he bucked and flung Erik off his back.

My eyes went wide. An instant later, I was diving. I managed to grab hold of Erik and slow his descent, but I knew we were still falling. I was too tired to keep us both aloft.

"See ya round," Greygnarl said, starting forward. "We can't have you carkin' it just yet... Guardian of Angel Falls..."

He flew faster then, and put himself between the approaching darkness and the village.

"But I've got a village of me own to protect."

And then he roared, a sound like the end of the world, as the darkness reached him. Erik and I stared in mute horror as we gained speed heading towards the ground far below.

There was an earth-shattering, air-shaking concussion, and then nothing.

Greygnarl was gone.

We kept falling.

Stella's little faerie light popped out, but it managed to stay put while we hurtled down. I was sure she had something to say, but I missed it.

I struggled to pull myself together, at least for long enough to land Erik and myself safely. My arms felt like they were popping out of their sockets trying to support Erik's weight as well as my own, but I managed to soften the angle of our dive until it almost seemed intentional. We were still going down fast, but this way we at least wouldn't be left as smears on the ground of Wyrmneck.

Then we hit the ground, tumbling over one another until we managed to come to a halt. Erik groaned. I did, too.

Rubbing my head, I pushed myself into a seated position and blinked until my vision cleared. Immediately, I wished it hadn't.

Because standing right in front of us was Lieutenant Hootingham-Gore.

And I'd thought the day couldn't have gotten any worse.


	26. Chapter 26

Hi, everyone...

Look, I'm really sorry. I got a good portion of the next chapter done this week, but as soon as I came off the cross-country course yesterday, I could feel a cold coming on. I tried to write some last night, but my head was all stuffy and it's only gotten worse this morning. So I've decided just to upload this, because it's already written and all I have o do is type out this apology. I hope you enjoy it.

...I hope you know enough about Phantom of the Opera to know what in the world it's about...!

* * *

_"Down once more to the dungeons of my black despair!_

_"Down we plunge to the prison of my mind!_

_"Down that path into darkness deep as hell!"_

Christine tried to pull away, but anger made the Phantom stronger. She couldn't break his grip on her wrist. The Phantom pulled her around to face him and slowed his descent.

_"Why, you ask, was I bound and chained in this cold and dismal place?"_ he half-spat, half-sang. _"Not for any mortal sin, but the wickedness of my abhorrent face!"_

And he continued pulling her down the damp stairs to his lair. Faintly, Christine thought she heard the noise of a group of people. _"Track down this murderer, he must be found! Track down this murderer, he must be found!"_

Down here, they were safe from the fire that by this point was bound to be raging in the operahouse above. But Christine was still terrified. It wasn't the burn-like distortion of the Phantom's face that frightened her; it wasn't the threat of fire. It was the sudden madness that seemed to have gripped the man pulling her down the stairs - the beautiful, broken, scarred man whom she had learnt to love in the years since she had come to the Opera Populaire. She was frightened for herself...and also for _him_.

Inside the lair, he began singing again, half to himself. _"Hounded out by everyone, met with hatred everywhere... _

_"No kind words from anyone, no compassion anywhere... _

"Christine..." He looked down at her, and Christine saw the tears in his eyes. "Why?" The whisper was quiet, broken-sounding. And then again, more violently: "Why!?"

* * *

_"Your hand at the level of your eyes..."_

_"At the level of your eyes..."_ repeated Raoul, and he heard the echoes of Madame Giry's and his voices echoing down the long set of stairs.

Madame Giry looked around nervously. "This is as far as I dare go," she told him.

Raoul understood why. "Thank you," he said, and started down the stairs. As he went, he shed first his fancy jacket, and then his overshirt. Whatever was going to happen in the depths of the operahouse, he wanted to be prepared - and that meant not being weighted down with extra layers.

He paused and glanced over the railing. It was a long, long way down...

Sighing, he put his hand up to the level of his eyes and kept going down. Then, suddenly, the floor dropped out from beneath him.

He was too slow to grab the ledge to catch himself and a second later, he found himself falling through water. A muted - but still ominous - clinking noise reached his ears. He swam to the surface and realised that there was a grate descending towards him. Panicked, he looked round. About ten feet beneath the surface was a wheel. It was a long shot, but it was also his only one. Taking a deep gulp of air, he dove for the wheel.

It refused to turn.

He tried desperately for a moment longer, and then glanced back up at the surface. There was enough time for one final breath. Knowing full well that it would most likely be his last, he swam back up, gasped for air in the scant inches between the surface of the grate, and returned to the wheel. Now either he turned it or he died without rescuing Christine from the clutches of the Phantom.

It was a strenuous endeavour, but in the end the wheel began to turn. He pushed even harder, and suddenly the chain caught and he knew the grate was rising. He pushed for the surface and came up to deep, laboured breaths of air.

But he couldn't stop to enjoy the fact that he was somehow alive. He had to keep going. Christine was down there somewhere, trapped in the Phantom's lair. Raoul hauled himself out of the water and continued down.

* * *

Christine hated the dress.

It was beautiful, she would give it that much. It fit her perfectly. And under any other circumstances, she would have loved it. But not there. Not then.

She stalked out to the front part of the lair, where the Phantom was sitting on the bench, facing his grand organ. _"Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood?"_ she snapped, and he turned. _"Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?"_

The Phantom rose, not seeming too put off by her outburst. He smiled grimly as he sang, _"That fate which condemns me _

_"To wallow in blood,_

_"Has also denied me_

_"The joys of the flesh."_

Here, he tried to touch her face, but she looked away petulantly.

_"This face the infection_

_"Which poisons our love."_

She looked back, eyes going wide, at the last word. But the Phantom had already turned away. His voice sounded shaky. _"This face, which earned_

_"A mother's fear and loathing;_

_"A_ _mask my first_

_"Unfeeling scrap of clothing..._

_"Pity comes too late!" _Roughly, he pushed something on top of her head - a veil, she assumed. And he wrenched her around to look at him as he continued, _"Turn around and face your fate!_

_"An eternity of this -"_ he gestured harshly to the right side of his face - _"before your eyes..."_

Christine looked up at him for a long moment in utter silence as he pressed the ring he had taken from her on the night of the masquerade ball into her palm. Then she turned away, taking the veil off her head and letting it fall to the ground. She crossed to one of the mirrors and removed the cover as she told him, _"This haunted face holds no horror for me now."_

That was one of the truths she needed to tell him. And then the other...

_"It's in your soul where the true distortion lies..."_

The expression on the Phantom's face told her that he knew it to be true as well. He looked away sadly, but Christine didn't. There was a beauty in his face, distorted as it was; a perfect asymmetry that somehow made the disfigured features more beautiful than any statue.

Then suddenly, he straightened and turned to look at her, a sudden smile upon his face. "Wait. I think my dear, _we have a guest!"_

Christine looked over, and her eyes went wide.

"Sir -"

"Raoul!"

"This is indeed an unparalleled delight!"

Christine looked at Raoul desperately, pleading. _Go!_ she thought. _Get away, before he kills you too!_

The Phantom didn't notice her discomfort. "I had rather hoped that you would come!" he said. "And now - my wish comes true! You have truly made my night." He put an arm around Christine's shoulders, and she tried to pull away. "Let me go," she hissed.

_"Free her! _Raoul sang desperately. _"Do what you like only free her! Have you no pity?"_

_"Your lover makes a passionate plea,"_ the Phantom said with a mocking grin as Christine escaped his arm.

_"Please, Raoul, it's useless!"_

_"I love her!"_ cried Raoul. _"Does that mean nothing? I love her! Show some compassion -"_

"The world showed no compassion to me!" roared the Phantom, whirling to face him.

_"Christine, Christine... Let me see her -"_

_"Be my guest, sir,"_ the Phantom replied, raising a hand in acknowledgement and pulling the lever to raise the gate. Christine's eyes went wide. Impossible. The Phantom hated Raoul...

But there he was, approaching the entering Raoul. Part of Christine's mind noted that the gate was going down again, but she was too focused on the scene before her to really notice. What was going on?

The Phantom spread his arms in greeting. _"_Monsieur_, I bid you welcome. Did you think that I would harm her?_

_"Why would I make her pay _

_"For the sins which are yours!"_

And with that, he scooped up a rope and threw it round Raoul's neck. Christine gasped in horror and started for them, but stumbled over the hem of her dress.

_"Order your fine horses now!" _mocked the Phantom. "Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes! Nothing can save you now - except perhaps _Christine!"_

He turned from Raoul, who was now tightly bound to the gate. Sloshing through the water, he shouted, _"Start a new life with me!_

_"Buy his freedom with your love! _

_"Refuse me and you send your lover to his death. _

_"This is the choice - _

_"This is the point of no return!"_

Christine was horrified. Breathing hard, shaking her head softly, she sang, _"The tears I might have shed for your dark fate _

_"Grow cold, and turn to tears of hate!"_

The Phantom shook his head in disgust and started for land. Christine began to cry as she heard Raoul's voice.

_"Christine, forgive me, please forgive me..._

_"I did it all for you and all for nothing!"_

_"Farewell, my fallen idol and false friend," _Christine sang angrily as the Phantom passed her, another length of rope in his hands. _"We had such hopes and now those hopes are shattered!"_

_"Too late for turning back, too late for prayers and useless pity,"_ spat the Phantom as he started back towards Raoul.

Raoul paid no attention to the Phantom. _"Say you love him and my life is over!" _he sang.

_"All hope in cries for help_

_"No point in fighting -"_

And then the noose was around Raoul's neck, and a hard enough tug from the Phantom would mean his end.

_"For either way you choose, you cannot -"_

_"Either way you choose, he has to -_

_"Win,"_ they both sang. And then the Phantom continued.

_"So do you end your days with me_

_"Or do you send him to his grave!?" _He yanked on the rope.

Christine's hand went to her throat as Raoul's head was pulled. Defiantly, Raoul growled, _"Why make her lie to you to save me?"_

Desperately, Christine tried to speak reason to the Phantom. _"Angel of music..."_

_"Past the point of no return -"_

_"For pity's sake, Christine, say no!"_

_"Who deserves this!?"_

_"The final threshold -"_

_"Don't throw your life away for my sake..."_

_"His life is now the prize which you must earn!"_

_"Why do you curse mercy...?"_

Quietly, Raoul sang, _"I fought so hard to free you..."_

Christine choked back her tears. _"Angel of music..."_

_"You've passed the point of no return..."_

_"You deceived me..."_ she sang quietly. She was trembling from anger and tears. "I gave you my mind blindly," she whispered.

The Phantom smiled grimly. "You try my patience," he told her. "Make your choice." He pulled on the rope, and Raoul spluttered weakly.

Christine looked at the Phantom, and then at Raoul. As soon as she met his eyes, Raoul knew what she was going to do. _I love you,_ she mouthed, and smiled weakly.

_A lot of good it did us,_ Raoul thought bitterly. _Oh, Christine..._

Christine looked at the Phantom, true caring in her eyes. _"Pitiful creature of darkness..._

_"What kind of life have you known?_

_"God give me courage to show you _

_"You are not alone!"_

With that, she slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand and reached up to kiss the Phantom full on the lips.

For a second, he was still from surprise. Then he relaxed against her, and he was kissing her back.

When they broke apart, Christine looked at the Phantom for a moment. Then she put her arms around his neck and pulled him in again.

This time, it was the Phantom who broke the kiss. Faintly, Christine could hear the sounds of the group of people - a mob, she realised suddenly, and with horror.

The Phantom was trembling. _He's never been kissed before,_ Christine realised. _He's never been shown affection...compassion... Love..._

And then, to her shock, he pushed away, saying, "Take her - forget me - forget all of this..."

Christine's eyes went wide, and then she rushed to Raoul and untied the ropes binding him to the gate.

"Leave me alone..." the Phantom said bitterly. "Forget all you've seen..."

Raoul and Christine embraced.

"Go now - don't let them find you!" snapped the Phantom, raising the gate. The voices of the mob were growing louder. _"Take the boat, swear to me never to tell_

_"The secret you know of the angel in hell!"_

_"The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_"Deep down below!"_

The Phantom turned and pointed out violently. _"Go now!"_ he cried. _"Go now and leave me!"_

Christine and Raoul hurried for the boat as the Phantom turned away a final time. But after she helped Raoul on board, Christine stopped and looked back. And she knew what she needed to do.

"Raoul," she whispered.

He looked at her. "Christine... What's wrong?" he asked. "Come on. Quickly, before the mob gets here!"

She shook her head. "I can't," she replied. "I love you, Raoul, I love you so much... But I love him, too. And he needs me." Gently, she reached up and touched his hand. "Please understand, Raoul..."

Raoul looked down at her in shock, and Christine could see a tear in his eye. "But... No, Christine, you can't..."

"I have to," Christine replied, shaking her head. "Goodbye, Raoul."

"Christine!"

She was already walking away, but she paused and turned back. "What is it?"

He fumbled for words in that endearing, straightforward way he had always had, even years before, in the days at the house by the sea. "Good luck," he said finally. "I love you, Christine."

"I love you too," she whispered, and walked away. And as she passed the lever, she pushed it to shut the gate.

* * *

_"Masquerade_

_"Paper faces on parade..._

_"Masquerade..._

_"Hide your face; the world will never find you..."_

The little papier-mâché music box played the melody, and the Phantom sang. _What a lie,_ he thought. _What a beautiful lie it is. The world will _always_ find you..._

Then, from behind him, he heard a small sound. He turned, and his heart rose as he saw Christine standing there. _"Christine, I love you..."_ he sang.

Christine approached slowly. There was still time. If she wanted to - if she truly wanted to - she could return to Raoul. She could tell the Phantom goodbye and live out a happy, simple, peaceful life as the Vicomtess de Chagny.

But when she looked into the Phantom's eyes, she knew she couldn't. She loved him too much to ever be truly happy away from him. Leaving Raoul would always leave a shadow in her heart, but leaving the Phantom would have left a hole.

So she knelt down next to his seat. "I love you too," she whispered, and kissed him again.

This kiss was different from the others. It was longer, sweeter, kinder, and yet somehow more passionate than anything before. Gently, she caressed the right side of his face, feeling out every blister and warped fold of skin, and she loved every one of them. "My angel of music," she whispered.

"No," he replied, also in a whisper. Christine looked at him. "My name... My name is Erik."

"Erik," Christine said, trying the name with the face. And she smiled as it clicked. "Erik, my angel."

And he smiled, too. "Come," he said. "They're getting closer."

He was right.

Erik led her around to another mirror. He tugged off the covering and slid it aside - it was a door, like in the dressing room. The main panel was all glass.

Christine started for the tunnel, but Erik paused. Then he picked up his half-mask and his favourite black wig.

He turned to find Christine waiting, placing a hand on top of the mask. "Bring it if you want," she said. "If you want to hide your face... I can understand. But when we're alone, leave it off." She smiled and rubbed the skin around his right eye. "Maybe no one else would understand...but I think it makes you even more beautiful."

Slowly, Erik smiled. "Thank you," he said.

And then, hand in hand, they left the operahouse behind.

* * *

_On the road to a Paris cemetery, 1919_

Raoul and Meg sat together in the back seat of the automobile, hands touching lightly. Between them was the little papier-mâché music box that they had bought at the auction earlier that day. It had been two years since news of Christine's death had reached them, but it had taken that whole time for Raoul to be ready to visit Paris again.

After the affair of the Phantom, he had returned to Chagny. Several years later, he had met Meg again, and something had worked. It wasn't the same love that he had shared with Christine, but it was love all the same. The two of them had gotten married. There were several children - Christine, Marc, and Nathalie - all grown by then. It had, after all, been forty-nine years since Christine had gone back for the Phantom that disastrous night at the operahouse.

Neither Raoul nor Meg had ever heard anything from Christine, but not long after Raoul's return to Chagny, the papers began to talk of a new operahouse in London, owned by a French couple. One was a beautiful young soprano who would have found her way into the productions even without the added benefit of owning the operahouse; the other was a more reserved, dark-haired, handsome man who was never seen in public without a white half-mask. Their names, according to the paper, were Erik and Christine Fantôme.

The two had operated the operahouse until five years previous, when they had retired and passed it on to their eldest son, Raoul.

Finally, the automobile reached the cemetery. Raoul and Meg got out and turned towards Christine's grave. It was a simple thing - a rounded block of stone. It read,

_Christine Fantôme _

_1854-1917_

_Beloved of many_

_Caring wife, mother, and friend._

Raoul read the inscription and felt his throat grow tight. Meg put a hand on his arm. "I miss her, too," she said quietly. "Here...let's give her the box."

She and Raoul bent down and together, they placed the music box on the ground before the grave. Then something next to it caught Raoul's eye. "Meg," he said quietly. "Look."

Lying next to the grave was a single red rose, with a black ribbon tied around the stem. And scattered around, as if they had been blown by the wind, were many others, some long dead, some only a few days old.

Raoul looked around, as did Meg. Finally, he saw a cloaked figure walking some distance away. It looked like he had come from the grave.

Almost as if it had realised that they were looking at it, the figure paused. Then it turned. His hair was still dark - he still wore his black wig. The left side of the face was creased with lines, and the figure was frailer than that of the man who had threatened him to win Christine all those years ago. But the mask left Raoul in no doubt of who he was looking at.

Erik nodded slowly.

Just as slowly, Raoul reached up to touch the brim of his hat. Meg gave a small curtsy.

And the Phantom of the Opera turned away, disappearing into the graves.

* * *

_Child of the wilderness,_

_Born into emptiness,_

_Learn to be lonely._

_Learn to find your way in darkness._

_Who will be there for you?_

_Comfort and care for you?_

_Learn to be lonely._

_Learn to be your one companion... _

_Never dreamed out in the world_

_There are arms to hold you._

_You've always known_

_Your heart was on its own._

_So laugh in your loneliness,_

_Child of the wilderness._

_Learn to be lonely..._

_Learn how to love life that is lived alone._

_Learn to be lonely._

_Life can be lived..._

_Life can be loved..._

_Alone._


End file.
